


Cursed Obsession

by UppityBitch



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Mystery, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2018-11-09 14:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 55,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11106375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UppityBitch/pseuds/UppityBitch
Summary: In this multi-chapter AU Klaroline work, vampire Caroline is a smart, sassy college professor specializing in ancient cultures. She's unveiling her latest research in which she debunks the famous "Sun and Moon Curse" artifacts. Imagine her surprise when she meets the mysterious hybrid who perpetrated the hoax! *Nominated for 2017 Klaroline Award – Best crime/mystery/thriller fic





	1. If Someone Doesn’t Like What You Have to Say, You Can Always Eat Them

Caroline Forbes’ blue eyes glittered with triumph as she gazed at her captivated audience. Her voice, brimming with confidence, echoed throughout the enormous lecture hall as she delivered the closing piece of her latest research findings. As a tenured college professor, one would think she would be past the insecurities and accompanying stage fright when giving a presentation, but she found that some parts of her DNA were too stubbornly ingrained to change. She noticed with distaste how her voice always would start small and uncertain as she kicked off her opening notes, and it wasn’t until she could feel the crowd’s genuine interest that she could allow herself to relax.

Countless times she had tried telling herself that if someone doesn’t like what you have to say, you can always eat them after the lecture, but still her insecurities lingered. Being a vampire for more than a century apparently wasn’t the confidence booster one would imagine it to be. “In conclusion, thanks to radiocarbon dating, my findings indicate that all of the artifacts associated with the so-called ‘Sun and Moon Curse’, originated around the same time — the mid-to-late 13th century.” While her controversial statement didn’t earn the same number of startled gasps from her audience that it had nearly an hour ago when she began her lecture, she still noticed that everyone’s attention was upon her, hanging on her every word. _She owned this stage_.

She had spent nearly a year studying every aspect of the curious folklore tale and now she was reaping the rewards of her hard work. The Sun and Moon Curse was said to be an Aztec curse that a shaman had cast upon vampires and werewolves in which werewolves would only be able to turn on a full moon and vampires would burn in the sun. Being a vampire, naturally Caroline had wondered if the curse was real, but nothing in her findings proved conclusive, so she pushed forward with her research, assuming that it was a mildly entertaining origin myth.

What made this particular folklore so intriguing was the unprecedented fact that it was well-known enough to appear in multiple cultures throughout the world, from Aztec etchings to Roman scrolls and even African tribal carvings. Since her expertise was ancient civilizations, she had been drawn to the legend from the beginning and had spent countless hours poring over the artifacts theorizing the link between the curse’s appearance in such diverse cultures and timelines. Late one night, she happened to be staring at the precise curvature of the Latin words taken from the Roman scrolls and noticed how the strokes were bold and confident.

That in and of itself was nothing, but she also happened to have detailed photos of the African tribal carvings lying next to it. The ancient Nsibidi script showed the same characteristics — every line was precise and seemed to carry a lot of power behind the hand that created the markings. She had had the absurd thought that wouldn’t it be hilarious if the myth had been a hoax perpetrated by the same individual who had possessed a working knowledge of multiple ancient cultures and decided to create artifacts and scatter them throughout the world for their own amusement.

She had laughed at herself the next day, but the thought was always at the back of her mind, nagging her until she started paying attention. She prided herself on following her instincts, and once she suspended her disbelief, she started noticing other inconsistencies among the artifacts that led her to believe her theory was correct.

“As I mentioned earlier, you can see that the individual, while highly educated for the 13th century, did not have a firm grasp of the Nsibidi script of West Central Africa. Its characters demand more curvature. These markings are much more rigid, as though the creator had gone directly from crafting the hard edges of the Latin found in the Roman scrolls and couldn’t quite make a convincing transition to the African tribal carvings.” She gestured with her laser pointer to the enhanced PowerPoint slide, noting with satisfaction the murmurs of approval she picked up with her vampire hearing throughout the lecture hall.

Her audience chuckled at her cutting remarks and she couldn’t help but add, “Also, it appears the creator meant to use the symbol for ‘war’ in this tribal etching, but instead used a symbol that indicates “goat’. Or possibly ‘big breasts’, so perhaps our forger was a goat herder with an overactive imagination and a bit of a fetish,” she concluded with a grin, earning another round of laughter from her audience.

“While it is doubtful we will ever discover the identity of the unusual individual who created these artifacts to perpetuate the legend of the Sun and Moon Curse, or learn their puzzling motivations behind such an unprecedented act all those centuries ago, we can all agree it makes for a fascinating footnote in history,” Caroline concluded with a warm smile, shuffling her index cards and basking in the afterglow of another successful lecture. The thundering applause from the audience stroked her ego and she was pleased to see the sour look upon Tyler Lockwood’s face as he took note of the positive attention she was receiving.

Tyler was a mediocre professor of history at the university, and constantly went out of his way to try to belittle Caroline’s research and applied for many of the same grants because he was threatened by her enviable career at such a young age. To the mortal world, Caroline appeared as a young woman in her mid-20s, having been turned into a vampire when she was 26. She was known as a gifted prodigy, and thanks to some helpful spells from her powerful witch friend Bonnie, she would be able to maintain this identity for at least another two decades before the humans would become suspicious.

The audience began to filter out of the lecture hall and she started packing up her notes, exhausted but exhilarated by what she had achieved with her research. She planned to squeeze at least three journal articles out of this research, and, if she was fortunate, may even get her own chapter in an upcoming edition of the _Historical Anthology of World Cultures_ that was updated every few years. _Methodical. Precise. Organized._ Every aspect of her life was carefully planned out, and she took absurd pleasure in the comfort it brought her. She couldn’t possibly have predicted how her life was about to be turned upside down.

Caroline had just turned off the projector when an amused, accented voice startled her. “What a fascinating lecture, sweetheart. I particularly enjoyed your prickly comments about the forger’s tenuous grasp of ancient languages. Tell me, are you always so judgmental?”

 


	2. Original What, Exactly? Recipe?

Caroline whirled around to face the stranger, a biting comment all set to roll off of her tongue and put that smug, accented voice in its place. _Holy shit_. It defied all natural laws that someone could be _that_ devastatingly attractive. _That unnaturally beautiful_ , Caroline thought as her blue eyes narrowed suspiciously. _Vampire. Definitely vampire_. She quickly scanned the lecture hall, relieved to see that her largely human audience had already left. This could get messy and she’d rather not have clueless witnesses to protect in addition to saving her own ass.

He smirked at her calculating look. Giving her a funny little courtly bow that somehow managed to appear both stuffy and condescending, he introduced himself as, “Klaus Mikaelson, _Original_.”

She realized he was clearly waiting for her to react to his name, as though it held some sort of deep, personal meaning for her. Could he _be_ any more of a pretentious asshat? Who the hell goes about tossing around their name and automatically assuming people know who they are? He was like a reality TV “star” and probably only slightly less evil. Snorting, Caroline asked dryly, “Original _what_ , exactly? Recipe? I find pop culture’s throwback Colonel worship equal parts tedious and creepy.”

His smirk vanished as he answered impatiently, “Original vampire, love. Well, Original hybrid, that is, half vampire, half werewolf. I’m from the oldest vampire family known to this world. All sire lines can be traced to me and my siblings.” He cocked his head to the side, studying her as he observed mockingly, “And here I thought the _great scholar_ , Caroline Forbes, would be better acquainted with crucial historical events of the ancient world.”

Bristling at Klaus’ insult, she said bitingly, “Sorry. I save my brain cells for things that _matter_.” Her blue eyes lit up when he stiffened at her barb, and she decided to indulge in a pettiness she normally saved for interactions with the moronic Tyler Lockwood. “Furthermore, as you so cleverly pointed out, my area of expertise is _ancient_ cultures. You know, B.C.? Something tells me you’re just as much A.D. as the rest of us.”

A hint of warning crept into his tone as he spoke softly. “Careful, love. I’m more than a thousand years old. You are little more than a century, I believe. Best not to anger the beast.”

Caroline’s heart picked up its pace as she saw how his gray eyes bled gold at his anger. She glanced at the heavy overhead projector, momentarily entertaining the thought of hurling it at that devastatingly handsome yet clearly dangerous face and making a run for it. She rationalized that if he was telling the truth about his age, she would never make it to the doors if he wanted to stop her. Plus, being part werewolf, his prey drive would instantly kick into high gear if she chose to flee. No, her best option would be to find out what he wanted. He had approached her for a reason, so she should cleverly steer the conversation toward finding out his intentions. _She just needed to be subtle_.

“So what do you want, Klaus,” She blurted out, sighing inwardly at her lack of filter.

Klaus seemed amused by her outburst and explained, “I happened to be in town for a meeting and stopped by the campus for some delicious coed takeout when I noticed a flier regarding your lecture. My curiosity got the better of me and I simply had to attend.”

Caroline rolled her eyes and chose to ignore his _coed takeout_ comment. “What kind of meeting? And why would you be interested in my lecture?”

“A family matter,” he said dismissively. “And of course I would be interested in a lecture that exposes the fraudulent Sun and Moon Curse artifacts…” he trailed off, dimples deepening as he added, “After all, _I’m_ the one who perpetrated the hoax. Although _goat herder with an overactive imagination and a bit of a fetish_ seemed a bit harsh, love.”

Caroline crossed her arms, raising a skeptical brow. “Really,” she deadpanned, “That may be the _worst_ pickup line I’ve ever heard. What’s next? Try to get in my pants by telling me how you and Socrates had a bromance and that the hemlock was a silly prank that got out of hand?”

Klaus chuckled, “You have such an inventive mind, sweetheart. As you so aptly ascertained, B.C. is a bit before my time.” He wandered over to the podium, completely at ease, as he looked out over the empty lecture hall. In his delicious accent, he revealed, “The Sun and Moon Curse is a curious bit of folklore that my brother Elijah and I began right around the time we became vampires. You see, I needed both the vampire and werewolf species motivated to scour the earth looking for two key ingredients: the doppelganger and the moonstone. The actual curse was placed upon myself when I first turned into a vampire. In order to unlock my werewolf side, I needed to break the curse in a ritual that involved the doppelganger and the moonstone.”

Caroline’s thoughts raced as she pieced together Klaus’ words. Why would he bother to freely give this information? He was definitely up to something. If he claimed to be a hybrid, that meant that he’d already broken his curse, so clearly whatever his business was here, it was about something else entirely. She knew nothing of the Originals and didn’t know anyone who she could ask to see if anything Klaus said was the truth.

She purposely avoided most of the supernatural community with the exception of a few select individuals, preferring to enjoy her existence as a human-ish being with a few _enhancements_. Humans do it all the time. Instead of fake boobs, she had fangs. Realizing Klaus was waiting for her to respond to his revelation, she said, “Fascinating. And I’m just supposed to believe that you created the Sun and Moon myth because you told me a story? Honestly, my grad students come up with more imaginative ramblings when they’re angling for an extension on a research paper.”

She refused to acknowledge how his temperamental growl made her jump slightly. “You want me to believe you created the Sun and Moon Curse artifacts? _Prove it_ ,” she demanded, favoring him with a defiant glare.

“Very well love,” he said in a clipped tone, leaning upon the wooden podium to continue his curious lecture to a phantom audience. “It was 1271 when I fabricated the artifacts, planting the mythology of the curse in various cultures to ensure it would spread throughout the world, thus ensuring that both vampires and werewolves would unwittingly assist me in my mission to unlock my curse. I compelled King Edward I to begin the ninth crusade against the Baibars and strategically plant my creations along his journey.”

Caroline rolled her eyes at his cocky tone. “I fail to see how you can expect me to take you seriously if you’re not even going to get _basic_ historical facts correct. Edward I didn’t become king until 1274 when he was crowned at Westminster.” She gave him a cheeky grin as she critiqued, “Also, you obviously can’t compel humans for crap — the ninth crusade was a complete and utter failure.”

Klaus cleared his throat in irritation and said awkwardly, “Yes, well, I didn’t focus on the particulars of the crusade itself. My interest was solely the exact placement of my artifacts: a Roman scroll, an Aztec drawing and African tribal carvings.” At her unimpressed glare, he allowed a sly grin to slide across his face. “Did you notice how I elevated my voice, emphasizing the key points of interest in my speech? If you fail to speak with authority and confidence during your lectures, how can you possibly expect your audience to trust you or your credentials? I couldn’t help but notice your lecture was off to a bit of a rocky start. Best learn to tame those nerves, sweetheart.”  

“Seriously? You’re distracting me by critiquing my public speaking skills? If you can’t prove you created the artifacts, just admit it and get to the _real_ reason of why you’re bothering me,” Caroline warned him with a huff, her lovely ivory skin turning an angry red as Klaus laughed softly.

He left the podium, wandering toward the whiteboard off to the side of the stage. Gesturing with a red marker in his hand, he said, “Now I’ll admit to being quite drunk when I etched the Roman scroll, but considering you had nary a harsh word to say about my Latin, I’ll assume that means you found my work impeccable.” With an impish grin that perfectly showed off his dimples, he turned to the whiteboard and began expertly writing lines from the scroll.

She grudgingly admitted that his work was flawless, showcasing the same precise curvature and bold, confident strokes she had admired during her research for the past year. “Fine. But those tribal carvings,” she began in a voice that sounded uncomfortably shrill to her own ears, before the impatient hybrid interrupted her.

“Yes, Elijah thought my Aztec drawing were my finest work, but I was actually quite proud of my African artifact. You wounded me with your scathing review, sweetheart.” Klaus admonished, adding ancient Nsibidi script to his Latin and showcasing the same clean lines with powerful movements that Caroline instantly recognized.

She shrugged her shoulders and said flippantly, “I suppose I’ll consider believing your story. After all, it’s doubtful anyone would purposely lay claim to such _inaccurate_ Nsibidi writing.” With a small smile at his scowl, she flashed over to the whiteboard beside him, grabbing the marker from his hand and confidently adding the correct symbol for ‘war’ next to his incorrect depiction. “ _Much_ better,” she declared, the triumphant smile on her face faltering slightly when she realized how closely she was standing next to Klaus.

With one hand, he carefully brushed aside one of her blonde curls, allowing his touch to linger near her cheek. “You are quite possibly the most vexing yet stunning creature I have ever encountered,” he said in a low voice filled with seductive promises. Leaning down, his velvet accent wrapped deliciously around the words, “In Bas So-Teen-Too Ara-Ma-Eet.”

Breathlessly, she asked, “What did you say?”

Smirking, he replied, “If only you spoke Aramaic.”

Suddenly, her lips curved into a taunting sneer that wiped the smirk right off of his face when she effortlessly responded with, “La b-ba’u rwnb shophar hiwia, Klaus.” At his incredulous expression, she rolled her eyes. “My focus for the past several decades has been ancient civilizations, dumbass. _Of course_ I speak Aramaic.”

Momentarily embarrassed, Klaus quickly schooled his features into something slightly less flustered and told her enigmatically, “This has been most enlightening. I do believe I’ll be seeing you soon, love,” and flashed away before she could speak.

 


	3. His Creepy Alien Power was Hypnosis Through His Dimples

“So your theory is that he’s an alien sent to study earthlings and was testing your knowledge by purposely getting facts wrong,” the man walking next to Caroline summarized from her previous 20-minute rant about Klaus.           

Caroline rolled her eyes at the over-gelled bouffant that her friend was sporting today. “Honestly Stefan, you act as though encountering aliens would be any more illogical than encountering _vampires_. Who are college professors. Walking toward their weekly department meetings.” She huffed in irritation, adding, “Besides, he called himself a _hybrid_. That’s a car for pretentious lip-service hippies, not a respectable monster species.”           

Stefan chuckled, “And you submit that his creepy alien power was hypnosis through his dimples?”           

“Which _so_ didn’t work on me, by the way. I could see the surprise in his beady little eyes when he realized it wasn’t working,” she retorted as they walked past the recently remodeled library.           

“Oh you mean those _expressive, stormy gray eyes that were a window into his troubled immortal soul_ ,” he asked with a silly grin.           

She elbowed him harshly in the side, nearly knocking him into a group of Kappa Mu freshman pledges who were wearing cow costumes and moo-ing balefully on all fours. “You know damn well that’s not how I described his eyes at all, Stefan!” She added in a much smaller voice, “They were actually more of a steel gray.”

She smiled at Stefan’s delighted laughter. He had become her closest friend and confidant nearly from the moment she met him when she was a newly turned vampire over a century ago. How she became a vampire was a source of fear and frustration for her — she recalled being roughly pulled into an alley by a dark shadow who drank from her neck until she collapsed in a heap on the cold ground. Then, a cut wrist was jammed between her teeth until she swallowed the stranger’s bitter blood. After that, everything went dark and when she opened her eyes again, she could tell she was _different_.

She couldn’t seem to stop sweating and shaking, and she managed to drag herself to the home of a doctor who called on her family occasionally. She had enough presence of mind not to want to worry them about her condition. However, before she could knock on his door, she was overcome by a terrible, aching hunger that caused her to collapse on the front step. While she was shivering and panicking in equal measure, Stefan happened by. He took one look at her and flashed her back to his place where she proceeded to throw as many of his possessions at his head as she could until he had calmed her down enough to explain that he wasn’t trying to hurt her. He slowly earned her trust and eventually everlasting friendship as he patiently guided her through the transition. _It was a debt she could never repay_.

“Hey, where did you just go,” Stefan asked worriedly, squeezing her shoulder.

She blinked rapidly, not realizing that her blue eyes had started to water. “It’s nothing. I was just thinking about your ugly green glassware that I tried to lodge into the back of your skull when we first met,” she said with a wicked smile.

“They were Waterford Clarendon emerald green wine goblets! Do you have any idea how long it took me to find that set,” Stefan asked in exasperation.

“Doesn’t change the fact that they were hideous and a crime against humanity that they existed,” Caroline said with a shrug. “Besides, I completely made it up to you later that year when I pretended to be your scorned wife so that clingy redhead you gave piano lessons to would quit stalking you.”

They climbed the steps leading to the main campus square, where they could see students hurrying to class while others lounged on metal benches or on the lawn itself. All that was missing was a Frisbee being thrown and it would be a live-action college brochure. “Fine, we’re even,” Stefan conceded grudgingly. “Now back to your bizarre inability to properly flirt with someone when they clearly express an interest.”

Caroline rolled her eyes and said in irritation, “Seriously? There was no _clearly expressing an interest_ with this dimpled-weirdo douche! He attended my lecture about a curse hoax _he_ perpetuated and then proceeded to rattle me and possibly subtly threaten me. He’s obviously up to something and wants to drag me into his mess.” She pushed an errant blonde curl away from her cheek and said in a much more subdued tone, “Besides, any time someone who looks like _that_ comes around, it’s just better to be safe.”

“Than sorry,” Stefan asked gently. He hesitated, clearly weighing his words carefully before he continued. “Look, Caroline, I know you haven’t had the best luck with men; for generations, you’ve had to put up with a narrow-minded society discounting you because of your looks and dismissing your contributions as less important.”

Caroline snorted derisively. “And then there’s my personal life where it’s always the ones who seem the most charming, sincere and attractive that are also the ones who turn out to be assholes. And let’s face it, with Klaus’ ridiculously unfair combination of dimples, sculpted body and his quick wit, he _definitely_ should come with a warning label.”

 Stefan sighed as they rounded a corner toward Dubois Hall where he taught music. “Caroline, they can’t all be like that. You need to let people in, otherwise, you’re sentencing yourself to an incredibly long, lonely immortality.”

“But it’s better than ending up with someone who could be worse than Damon,” she said defensively. Her nose immediately wrinkled as she thought of Stefan’s cocky, screw-up brother whom she had met multiple times over the course of her friendship with Stefan. While he was attractive, the shiftless way he spent his immortality, merely drinking and fucking his way through the decades, diminished whatever beauty he might have otherwise possessed for Caroline.

He paused at the door to his building and rubbed his right temple tiredly. This was an old argument of theirs, well-worn but he clearly deemed it important enough to mention the highlights every so often. “The good news is that there’s only _one_ Damon, Caroline. As well as those other losers you’ve known. Try to remember that. Who knows? _This_ time it could be different. If _you_ let it be different.”

Caroline favored him with a small smile. Stefan was a true friend, and only wanted the best for her. She couldn’t imagine an immortal life with him and his quirky ‘emergency fedora’ and ‘backup emergency fedora’ he kept in his car at all times, you know, _just in case_. “I’ll think about it, I promise.” She rolled her eyes at his triumphant smile and headed to her history department staff meeting in Petrova Hall. 

* * *

Alaric Saltzman, the head of the history department, threw an irritated look at Caroline when she ducked into their weekly staff meeting a few minutes late. “As I was saying,” he aggressively cleared his throat, clearly trying to call attention to Caroline’s tardiness, “We have had an unexpected increase in our fundraising, which has resulted in the board’s approval for two additional faculty positions as well as a visiting professorship grant.”

Caroline quickly sat down at the oval conference table with her colleagues and tried to refrain from gazing longingly out of the sunshine-filled windows. She pulled out her tablet and pretended to take notes while Alaric droned on, instead accessing her latest research. With Klaus’ unexpected revelations regarding the Sun and Moon Curse hoax, she had a list of journal article ideas she wanted to write, but likely would be unable to swallow her pride long enough to interview him. _Besides_ , she thought disdainfully, _it’s not as though I would be able to cite him as a credible source in my references_. How would you even apply MLA-style to the reference _immortal hybrid dimpled asshat who created curse artifacts to perpetuate a hoax_? She could just imagine the editors’ reactions if she included such a citation in her submissions to the _Journal of Interdisciplinary History_ or _Comparative Civilizations Review_.

Still, it was a shame she wouldn’t be able to tap the wealth of knowledge that Klaus obviously possessed. _Sure, it was his_ knowledge _she wanted to tap_. Her mind wandered back to their tension-filled but somehow electric encounter and how she had no choice but to acknowledge how invigorating their verbal sparring over history had been. She sighed inwardly as she tuned back in to Alaric’s announcements as he explained, “With our new budget allocation model, our university is striving for transparency with its donors, faculty, staff and students.” Caroline rolled her eyes as she caught the smug smile on Tyler’s face as he leaned back in his chair. The only thing _transparent_ about the budget was the suspicious amount of funding Tyler received. The Lockwoods had held a board seat for generations; it was a wonder that Tyler’s middle name wasn’t _nepotism_.

Finally, Alaric appeared to be wrapping up the meeting’s agenda, touching briefly upon the ongoing renovations in the Tunde Annex and the revised orientation program for international and transfer students. As everyone started to rise from the table, he cheerfully called out, “And don’t forget, the provost plans to review all department budgets by the end of this quarter, so please send me your proposals by the 20th. The resulting groans and grimaces caused him to grin in a sadistic manner that only school administrators seemed to achieve.

A knock at the open doorway caught Alaric’s attention. The department head eagerly weaved through his staff to greet the arrival. “Excellent, you’re right on time. We’re so pleased to have you join us!”

She was sliding her tablet back into her bag when Alaric stopped her and said excitedly, “Caroline, I want you to meet Professor Mikaelson. He’s accepted our department’s visiting professorship grant.”

Heart pounding, Caroline looked up to see Klaus standing next to Alaric, wearing his signature smirk.


	4. Professor Hybrid Asshat

_This is not happening. Klaus is not standing here next to my department head. Clearly I’m still daydreaming about those troublesome dimples and any moment now this is all going to turn into a perfume-worthy commercial in overdone black and white complete with a beach, pounding waves, and billowing white clothes with the wind artfully tossing around our hair but it somehow does not get stuck in our eyes or mouths. Hybrid —The Fragrance of Seduction._

Caroline’s ivory cheeks bloomed with color as she thought back to her earlier desire to spend more time with the cocky hybrid. Her secret shame is that ever since that first combative meeting, she had started that list of possible topics related to the Sun and Moon curse that she wanted to explore further with him. _Explore_. _Selflessly for the sake of academic scholarship. Right_. His dimples seemed to be deepening and she realized she had been caught staring slack-jawed at him for far too long. Gritting her teeth, she thrust out her hand for him to shake and said, “How nice to meet you. So a _visiting_ professorship. Where are you visiting from, _Professor_ Mikaelson?”

With a sexy curl of his lips, Klaus replied, “It’s delightful to meet you again, Professor Forbes. You must not recall, but I attended your lecture regarding the Sun and Moon Curse the other evening. I must admit, you left _quite_ the impression and I seized the opportunity to interact with your _dedicated scholarship_ on a more intimate level.” He had the audacity to bend down and place a gentle kiss upon her knuckles, before flashing her a cheeky grin. “And I hail mostly from Cambridge and Oxford. I’m not one to brag; my credentials speak for themselves.”

Alaric, completely clueless to the palpable tension in the room, smiled broadly and said in agreement, “Yes! Caroline, you will be most impressed by Klaus’ experience. He is exactly the kind of ‘new blood’ we need in our department. I anticipate your collaborations will be the highlight of our semester.”

She bit back a grin at her department head’s associating ‘new blood’ and ancient asshat hybrid, but then a thought stopped her cold — he said he was looking forward to _their_ collaborations. _No_. _Way_. “Um, _our_ collaborations, Alaric? I was under the impression that the department’s visiting professorship grant was designed to assist with the Greek and Roman archival collections.”

“Originally, yes, but as you know, the applicants we received were lackluster to say the least, and I can stall the board until next semester. Besides, Klaus convinced me that his knowledge of the 13th century combined with his background in Aztec, Roman and African studies are ideal for aiding you in your lecture series on the Sun and Moon Curse hoax,” Alaric explained.

Caroline flashed a fake smile at Klaus, her tone poorly masking her sarcasm as she bit out, “What a coincidence that Professor Mikaelson’s background so _perfectly_ matches the experience needed to assist me with my work.”

Klaus’ gray eyes twinkled as he nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Almost as though it was meant to be, love.”

Alaric clapped his hands together excitedly. “Excellent! I had a feeling the two of you would get along. Klaus’ timing is fortuitous given that Caroline also is embarking on another major research project which will soon take up much of her time. My broad vision for your collaboration will include continuing Caroline’s research, co-authoring multiple journal articles, and co-presenting a lecture series. Later this week, I’ll expect a more detailed proposal from you both outlining your anticipated deadlines with progress updates built into your schedule.” He exited the meeting room, unknowingly leaving behind a smug hybrid asshat and an irritated, overachieving vampire.

Klaus leaned in closer, dropping a whisper of seductive words into the shell of her ear. “I must admit, sweetheart, hearing you call me ‘professor’ may be the highlight of my day.”

Caroline stepped away from him, wrinkling her nose. “Seriously? Who the hell do you think you are, barging into my work like this, you hybrid asshat?!”

“Professor,” he prompted her with a smirk.

“ _Fine_. _Professor_ hybrid asshat,” she amended, crossing her arms defiantly across her chest.

He chuckled, clasping his hands behind his back casually. “Love, you are a delight. I do enjoy our verbal sparring matches. I anticipate our _collaborations_ will be equally stimulating.”

“There will be no _stimulating_ of any sort! This is my career you’re toying with and I will not have your woeful incompetence and academic inadequacies ruining my research! Do you have any training handling and cataloguing priceless, delicate artifacts? Are you even familiar with properly sifting through online library databases or do you think JSTOR was the war chief from one of your Viking raiding parties?”

“Nonsense — the clan elders never would have allowed someone of such a simplistic moniker hold such an honored position within a raiding party. We would have tacked on ‘Ironside’ or ‘Bloodaxe’ to save face,” Klaus informed her with a teasing smile.

His delicious accent had _no_ effect on her. She was _not_ affected in the slightest. She was certainly _not_ going to comment on it. At all. “What’s with the accent,” she blurted out, closing her blue eyes in embarrassment when she realized how breathless her voice sounded.

“My accent?”

She huffed, tucking a messy curl behind her ear. “It’s British. Possibly Welsh dialect.”

He cocked an eyebrow in confusion. “And? What of it?”

“And you’re _not_ ,” Caroline gestured toward him, rolling her eyes. “Your native tongue is Old Norse. North Germanic pronunciation is too dissimilar from British despite the inherently shared Anglo-Saxon roots.”

Klaus leaned forward once more, invading her space ever so slightly in a clear bid to keep her off-balance. “Then what, pray tell, should I sound like, hmm, sweetheart?”

“Alexander Skarsgård,” she answered flatly. “He’s a trusted authority on ancient Viking vampires,” she added with a grin.

“Ancient Viking _hybrid_ ,” Klaus ground out, somewhat irritated. “And you haven’t taken into consideration that I lived for centuries in British lands. Languages and accents are malleable.”

With a mischievous sparkle in her blue eyes, she teased, “Except studies have shown that accents are more or less fixed at approximately age 20. It takes considerable time and effort to alter something so intrinsic.”

A slight scowl graced his handsome face as he awkwardly brushed off her comments. “Yes, well, as I’ve already explained, my extensive time spent in Great Britain has obviously influenced my accent.”

She held up her hands in a mocking surrender. “Fair enough. To my knowledge, linguistic research hasn’t been performed on immortal creatures’ speech patterns, so we’ll table the issue for now.” Narrowing her eyes, she felt her initial indignation return. “Getting back to my original point, my work is a _huge_ part of my world and this is my reputation that you’re so callously placing in jeopardy for reasons that escape me.” She could feel her face heating once more at the shrill, desperate tone her voice revealed as she thought of all the ways Klaus’ mind games could singlehandedly dismantle her credibility in the academic world.

At his peevish expression, Caroline laughed, surprising herself when she realized that the few minutes she’d spent trading smartass comments with Klaus had been the most connected she’d felt in a long time. _Something to ponder for later_.  

“Caroline,” he started in a more serious tone that immediately captured her attention, “I’m embarrassed to admit that I don’t normally pursue women like this. I attended your lecture on a lark, but it was your strength of spirit, your fierce intelligence and your beautiful light that enthralled me.” His crestfallen tone was enough to make her heart plummet. “However, I see now that I’ve gone about this infatuation of mine in the wrong manner. I’ve made you uncomfortable and for that, I sincerely apologize.”

She guiltily recalled Stefan’s advice to start letting people in. _Could she really start with Klaus?_ Her instincts told her to proceed with caution, but she could at least admit to herself that she was lonely. For all of her friendships and the full life she led, she knew that much of her obsession with her scholastic pursuits was to prevent herself from dwelling on how utterly alone she felt in this vast world. Reaching a decision, she gave him a soft smile. “Apology accepted. _Professor_ Mikaelson. And I’m sorry for being so combative.” She lowered her gaze, suddenly finding her shoes fascinating. “I — I have a lot of trust issues...and a friend of mine wants me to work on it...but um...” she finished awkwardly.

The smile he flashed her was genuine, obviously charmed by her awkward revelation. “Then perhaps you would allow me to start over, love? I’d be delighted to get to know you over dinner tonight.” His dimples cut into his cheekbones as he hastily amended, “As colleagues, of course. We can even keep the conversation focused on our research proposal if you prefer.”

Caroline felt her cheeks grow rosy when she noticed the heat in his steel gaze. With a twinge of regret, she realized she would have to decline his offer. “Unfortunately, I have plans tonight, but maybe—” she faltered when she saw his genuine disappointment, and impulsively said, “Maybe you’d be interested in joining me? We could grab something late after we’re done.”

He nodded enthusiastically as though relieved she wanted to include him. “Of course, love, I’d be pleased to join you in your plans. Where are we going?”

“A sort of second home for me. You said you wanted to get to know me, so this is a good place to start,” she said with an adorable wink.

Intrigued, Klaus readily agreed, almost bashfully wishing her a good day as he exited the room. Caroline couldn’t help but watch him leave, her appreciative study of his graceful form leaving her breathless. _I am in so much trouble._

Shaking her head at her foolish antics — _seriously, what possessed her to wink at him_ — she went upstairs to her office to try to get some work done. Once she unlocked her door, she exhaled, feeling the sexual tension from their charged encounter start to leave her body as she smelled the familiar scents of lavender and mint from the plants she kept on her window ledge. She felt an absurd giddiness at the prospect of her date — non-date, that is — with the infuriatingly charming hybrid.

Her phone suddenly rang, and her blue eyes lit up in delight when she recognized the number. She quickly answered the phone, her voice full of warmth as she greeted, “Matty! How are you?”

Matt Donovan, or “Matty” as Caroline had dubbed him his freshman year when he adorably argued with her so earnestly in her classroom regarding the themes of the _Epic of Gilgamesh_. With his bright blonde hair and faded blue eyes, he had the look of an all-American boy, and at first glance, Caroline had assumed he fit into the typical jock stereotype, but she soon discovered that he was as dedicated to his academic pursuits as she and he immediately gravitated toward her as his mentor, soaking up knowledge like an eager little sponge. She thought of him as a little brother, and delighted in teaching him everything she knew about their chosen field.

Now, he was one of her most brilliant Ph.D. candidates, and when Alaric had stubbornly refused to grant her any further time in the field this semester, she sent Matt in her place, confident in his abilities as a scholar to continue her important research. “Tell me you have some good news,” she said eagerly.

“Yup, you were right; the Phoenix Stone did end up in the estate sale. I’m leaving the auction now and will drop it off at the local Fed Ex. You’ll have it first thing tomorrow,” he said excitedly.

Caroline beamed, her sunshine voice pouring forth. “Well, done, Matty! Now I know Alaric said funds were tight and we needed you on the first plane back here as soon as you retrieved the stone, but I think you’ve earned a bit of a vacation, so I’ve paid your hotel room through the rest of next week and the exchange fee on your ticket to fly back then.” At his stunned gasp, she laughed. “It’s my way of saying thank you for all the hard work you’ve been doing on this project with me.”

Matt stumbled over his words as he tried to thank her. “This is just — I mean, wow, thank you!” He shyly added, “I actually checked with the guy at the front desk about where the best fishing spots were, and it turns out less than a mile away is some of Montana’s best fly fishing.”

“Then this works out perfectly; You enjoy a relaxing fishing trip and when you get back, I’m sure I’ll have some better understanding of the direction the research should take. Be sure to email pictures of the stone, your field notes and interview of the old magician’s family; we definitely want to include their take on the stone’s rich history.” Matt agreed eagerly and then hung up, no doubt anxious to start fishing, leaving Caroline to her thoughts.

_The Phoenix Stone project had been a legend of the ancient world she had chased off and on over the years, much like Klaus’ Sun and Moon Curse hoax, before finally convincing her latest department head to fund her research efforts. Carved from red beryl, it was supposedly used by the ancient Anasazi shamans to trap the souls of their enemies. It was lost for centuries in the American Southwest until 1773 when two women were accused of using witchcraft to murder another woman in New Mexico. The Phoenix Stone was confiscated by the authorities and it mysteriously disappeared after the women’s execution._

_It resurfaced in France in 1800, when Robert Emmet of Dublin attempted to use the stone to secure foreign help for the rebellion he hoped to raise in Ireland. It is unknown what, if any value, was offered as written accounts indicate that the stone is marred by inclusions, likely from the brittleness of the mineral under the weight of the native carvings._

_A German family bartered the stone for passage to America in the late 1800s, and the ship’s captain, Thomas Gaddy, passed the stone down to his son in North Carolina, who then passed it on to his son, and so on and so forth, with several owners trying and often failing to pass off the gemstone as a ruby in the hopes of making a quick profit. The stone exchanged hands along the south, ironically finding a home in an antique shop in Mystic Falls around World War I, when Caroline was turned. It frustrated her to no end when she thought of how close she came to easily obtaining a piece of ancient history, had she known at the time how important her research would become to her._

_The trail grew cold and didn’t pick up again until she found a tin sign for sale online that advertised a magic show that featured a “remarkable ancient ruby of mystical properties”. With a bit more digging, she determined that the magician used the stone as a prop in his act in the 1980s, and after his death, his relatives were obviously scavenging his estate for monetary gain._

The insistent ding of her email caught her attention, pulling her from her thoughts. She excitedly clicked on the email from Matt, barely paging through his field notes before moving onto the images he sent. At first glance, it was an unremarkable stone, a dull-red, about the size of an egg, and full of scratches and cracks. She wouldn’t be able to determine if its origin reached back to the Anasazi civilization until she could perform proper radiocarbon dating and examine the stone’s layers for telltale native etchings through an MRI scan.

The myth about the stone possessing mystical properties did give her pause, but once she heard the legend, her curious mind couldn’t wait to prove its falsehood as anything more than a significant artifact from a lost civilization.

_Of course, it was exactly this type of stubborn single-mindedness that led to her disproving ancient curse artifacts and gaining an insistent, sexy hybrid shadow._

_“_ But it’s not like there could be any bigger surprises than that,” she uttered to herself confidently as she started looking through Matt’s research files in earnest.

 


	5. Your Peculiar Real Estate Fetish

Caroline grinned at the look of confusion mixed with awe upon Klaus’ face as he stared up at the extravagant mansion before them. Sitting on the outskirts of town, its enormous size did not diminish the quiet dignity it projected as an exquisite colonial reproduction. Its cheerful red brick exterior and grand marble columns always filled Caroline with an enormous sense of pride that she had helped make this dream of hers a reality. “So, what do you think,” she asked a bit breathlessly.

“It’s a superb example of Colonial Revival architectural design. Built during the _second wave_ , I assume? Perhaps the early 1950s? I must admit I’m surprised that a lover of _ancient_ cultures would enjoy such a _recent_ design,” he pronounced with only the slightest bit of condescension in his voice.

She rolled her eyes, gesturing toward the white shutters she painted herself one hot July morning. “Regardless of my passions for ancient civilization, I’ll have you know that this is my baby and you’d better mind your tongue if you know what’s good for you.”

Sensing she was only half-teasing, Klaus softened his tone and said apologetically, “Of course, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to offend. Perhaps one day you’ll allow me the honor of showing you my properties. I have several from the early 12th and 13th centuries that I believe you’ll truly appreciate; even if they’re more _recent_ than your passions normally allow you to admire.”

“So, your go-to pick-up line is, ‘Hey baby, my property is older and more impressive than yours,’? Nice. Now maybe you can talk dirty to me about property taxes and private mortgage insurance,” she said with a chuckle, walking toward the darkly stained door with a brass knocker.

Klaus’ gray eyes lit up in delight at Caroline’s teasing innuendos. “If you wanted me to talk dirty to you, sweetheart, I can think of a myriad of other topics better suited to set the mood, but I find myself _fascinated_ by your peculiar real estate fetish.”

She would not blush. She would NOT blush. Stupid hybrid asshat deepened his accent on purpose. Clearing her throat repeatedly, she hurriedly explained, “As I was saying, this is my baby. Officially, it’s a homeless shelter, but it’s so much more than that. It’s a home, a safe place for those who need it the most.”

He raised a quizzical eyebrow as he took in the graceful lines of the twin columns and the intricate design of the heavy brass pineapple knocker. “A bit of an odd choice for a shelter,” he commented.

Caroline traced the edges of the cool brass, trying to keep her tone from becoming defensive. “The pineapple is a traditional symbol of welcome throughout the South. It’s why I chose this design —to make people feel welcome, especially those who normally feel they are not. This grand home was restored to give back something beautiful to those who have lost their way. Because everyone deserves something beautiful.”

“On that, we can agree, sweetheart,” he murmured, gently brushing a blonde strand from her soft cheek.

Trying not to show how much his warm touch affected her, she opened the door only to immediately be accosted by a cheerful brunette who eagerly scooped her up into an enthusiastic hug. “Caroline! Thank goodness you’re here! Jesse keeps burning the gravy and I need you to make it edible before everyone arrives,” she explained breathlessly before fixing her sharp-eyed gaze upon Klaus. “And I see you’ve brought us a ruggedly handsome guest. Tell me, is he pre- or post-dinner entertainment?”

“Jenna!” Caroline’s high-pitched squeal of protest only made the smug grin on the hybrid’s face grow wider. “This is Klaus, a um...friend. He was curious about my plans tonight, so I thought I’d show off our place.” As the woman leaned forward to shake Klaus’ hand, Caroline said, “Klaus, this is Jenna, she’s one of the dozens of volunteers that helps run this place. We would be hopelessly lost without her.”

Jenna’s cheeks turned rosy under Caroline’s praise, but her tone grew serious as she replied, “No, WE would be hopelessly lost without Caroline. She took me and my husband Jesse in when we were out on the street and had lost everything. She brought us here and got him the help he needed.” Her voice faltered slightly as she explained, “And she’s done all that and more for so many of us.” She squeezed Caroline’s shoulder as she jerked her chin at Klaus. “You’ve found yourself a good girl here; don’t screw it up or else.” She bit back a smile at Caroline’s irritation as she headed toward the large dining room to help set up for dinner, leaving Caroline awkwardly standing in the foyer with Klaus.

“But we’re not even — seriously, it’s not like...just not right this...” Caroline trailed off with a grumble at her friend’s swiftly retreating back. She raised her blue eyes to meet Klaus’ amused stare and said with a sigh, “So we should probably get to the kitchen then.” She led Klaus down a long hallway that opened to an enormous kitchen with beautifully carved wooden beams decorating the ceiling.

“Your friend mentioned that you got her husband help,” Klaus stated curiously, surprising Caroline as he moved toward the gleaming stove and began heating the pan drippings from the roast on low.

She handed him a whisk and pointed out the butter, flour and milk beside him as she explained, “Jesse had a rough deployment and it got to be too much for him when he came back. He couldn’t work and they lost their house. After I started talking to him, I recognized the signs and knew he could benefit from the care he would receive here.” Hesitantly, she continued, “I know a bit about what military families can go through and I wanted to create a place that specialized in their needs.”

His brow furrowed at the inherent sadness in her tone and while adding the milk to the pan, he murmured, “It’s obvious that you’ve created this home around something that’s close to your heart. That’s admirable, love, but I don’t want you to feel obligated to tell me more than you’re comfortable.”

She smiled tremulously, pausing briefly to direct a couple of men walking past the archway with, “Jesse! Please take Enzo to my car and finish unloading the supplies. There should be a couple of bags of clothes and extra toiletries; I know Jenna mentioned the third-floor bathrooms ran out this week.” She returned to the kitchen, mentally taking stock of the 30 bedrooms and 15 bathrooms and wondering if she should send the guys on another supply run before next week. She realized she was taking her time while Klaus’ back was turned to the stove to distract herself with shelter business rather than dwelling on whether she should reveal something so deeply personal to Klaus.

Revealing so much of herself right away was a risk; it’s how she kept getting hurt. She put all of her faith and trust into people and they would eventually throw it away. If it wasn’t for Stefan, tirelessly urging her to put herself out there; that the _next time_ might be the right person, she’d probably have given up on finding a connection long ago. She hesitated briefly, but decided to at least tell him _some_ intimate details. Perhaps he’d appreciate her gesture of goodwill and reciprocate.

Lowering her voice to ensure none of the house’s human occupants could overhear, she explained, “My father was wounded during World War I. When he finally made it home, it was obvious he wasn’t — right. Back then, of course, we didn’t have the right names for what was happening to him and no one really understood the tremendous psychological toll combat can take on an individual.”

She shook her head angrily when she recalled how their neighbors would just sigh and say, ‘Old Bill had a hard war,’ and then leave it at that. Everyone felt sorry for her family, but no one was there to _help_. That’s what always stuck with her — the lack of compassion from her neighbors whenever her father would have hysterical shouting matches by himself in their yard or appear to go into a trancelike state where he would remain huddled in a corner for hours and sometimes days. Realizing her throat had become tight with unshed tears, she mumbled, “I just wish I’d had somewhere to go to help my father when...when things got really bad.”

Klaus loudly beat the metal whish against the sides of the pan, startling her from her dark thoughts. He opened his mouth once, then twice before finally seeming to find the right words. “The things you see in battle, in a war...they’re not easily forgotten. I was raised in blood and violence, until shedding death was all I knew. I couldn’t bring myself to hope for a gentle existence, not when I constantly felt the weight of my father’s hand.” He seemed shocked by his own words, as though he hadn’t meant to reveal so much to her. Lowering his lashes, he muttered, “I do not mourn my misdeeds as a monster; not as I suppose one should, but those precious human years squandered under the angry fist of such a nightmare haunts me.”

Caroline’s heart ached at Klaus’ words, especially those left unsaid. She couldn’t begin to imagine the life he had led all those centuries ago, helpless at the hands of an abusive father. While she had cause to fear her own father when he returned from the war, she and her mother were fortunate that he seemed more intent upon harming himself. But the worry was always present, and she constantly feared for her safety and that of her mother’s. She recognized that what Klaus had shared with her was incredibly personal, and she was honored to have earned his trust in such a short timeframe. She carefully squeezed his forearm, flashing him a small smile of encouragement. “Then it’s a good thing I brought you here. It’s never too late to seek help.”

Turning down the burner and allowing the gravy to thicken, Klaus clearly made a bid to change the subject that had grown uncomfortable for him. “So this place of yours — how many does it shelter? How do you secure funding?”

“It originally only had 10 bedrooms, but we converted the game room in the basement and the attic to make space for extra rooms, so now we can comfortably sleep 30-35. Everyone was really upset about the loss of the game room though — I nearly had a mutiny on my hands when I told them the ping pong tables had to go.” She smiled fondly as she recalled how she was planning to surprise everyone with ping pong and air hockey tables for Christmas, just as soon as she could figure out where they could fit them.

She realized Klaus was still waiting for an answer to the other part of his question, but she wasn’t sure how much she should say. She reminded herself again not to speed ahead and reveal too much too soon, so she answered him with caution. “As for funding, we get some from the state to help with costs for the in-house therapist and physician. I also had some saved up over the years, obviously, and this manor was condemned by the city so I was able to buy it for almost nothing. I have a friend at the courthouse who keeps me updated on any trials where the defendant manages to beat the charges with a mere slap on the wrist despite damning evidence. If I _happen_ to cross paths with them, and they feel _compelled_ to tell me the truth of their crimes, they may find themselves feeling inexplicably generous and wish to donate to our shelter.”

His dimples deepened at her impish smile, and she felt a warm fluttering that was compounded when he placed an index finger to his delectable lips and said, “Shh, sweetheart, we don’t want your fan club to hear you speak of such nefarious crimes.” As the blush bloomed on her cheeks, he added a flirtatious wink, whispering, “I promise your secret is safe with me.”

Clearing her throat, she turned away from the smirking hybrid who had begun spooning the mouth-watering gravy into the ceramic boats on the counter. She busied herself at the double oven in the wall, putting on oven mitts to remove the perfectly browned popovers in the muffin tins. She felt a twinge of guilt at not feeling comfortable enough with Klaus to tell him more about her friend who worked at the courthouse, but she was loyal to a fault, and Bonnie, while a powerful witch, would probably appreciate her discretion.  

Caroline called in Jesse and Enzo to take the food into the dining room while Jenna came in and said, “Klaus, could you be a dear and move the box in the living room to the second floor? It has the extra belts and shoes our guests have been asking about.” She tilted her head at Caroline and said sweetly, “Caroline can show you where.” At Caroline’s glare, she wiggled her eyebrows, retreating back toward the dining room where people had started to gather.

 Caroline followed behind Klaus as they scaled the wide staircase, trying her best not to stare so blatantly at his impossibly perfect ass. The way it curved and swayed with each step was so distracting she nearly ran into his broad back when he abruptly stopped at the top of the stairs. Glancing over his shoulder at her he asked, “Which way, love,” wisely choosing not to comment on how breathless she appeared after climbing one flight of stairs.

Silently pointing to the left corridor, she directed him toward the loft area that served as a reading area complete with overstuffed couches and two tall bookcases. As he bent to set down the box on the square coffee table, she noticed how his muscles oddly seemed to bulge quite prominently. Her blue eyes widened and she giggled, “Are you seriously flexing right now?”

Straightening quickly, he scratched the back of his neck, huffing “Of course not! That’s just how I normally look.” In an embarrassed tone, he hastily added, “After all, that box was deceptively heavy.”

Rolling her eyes, she sat down in the middle of one of the couches and patted the spot next to her. He joined her with an almost shy smile and they sat in silence for a bit, listening to the cacophony of noise taking place downstairs in the dining room. “Normally I’d say we go down there to join the group, but the therapist mentioned that John had an episode today and would benefit from a smaller group at dinner to ease him back into things.” She leaned back against the smooth fabric of the couch and glanced over at him, asking, “I hope that’s all right? I’d like to stay for a bit and clean up when dinner’s finished and then maybe we could go have a late meal? My treat.”

“Of course, sweetheart, whatever you like,” he said in a reassuring tone. “Did you want to discuss our research proposal while we wait?”

“Sure — I’m afraid I was so caught up in my other project when I returned to my office today that I haven’t given much thought to Alaric’s assignment,” she confessed, feeling excitement bubble up once more as she thought of the remarkable headway she’d made with the Phoenix Stone research. It would arrive in the morning and she’d already reserved the machines down in the lab to do the proper scans.

“This other project,” he prodded inquisitively, “Have you been as devoted to it over the years as you have with the Sun and Moon Curse?”      

She laughed. “Possibly even more obsessed until I hit a dead end a few decades back. This Phoenix Stone and its legend nonsense have consumed me. I suppose it makes sense, though, given that it supposedly originated with the oldest Native Americans in the Southwest.”

He nodded in recognition. “Ah yes, I could see how the stone’s supposed origins with a lost civilization would appeal to you.” Raising an eyebrow, he inquired, “But you don’t believe in its mystical properties?”

Caroline scoffed. “Do you? Seriously, if it was as powerful as the legends say, the supernatural world would have torn itself apart searching for it long ago.”

He nodded, gray eyes lighting up at her derision. “You raise an interesting point. I honestly can say that while I’ve encountered those in our community who have heard of the stone, I’ve yet to meet any who were actively searching for it.”

“Exactly! Soon, I’ll be able to get started on the next phase of my research with —”

Klaus’ voice cut her off unexpectedly. “Perhaps we should make some initial outlines of our research plans for Alaric? Multiple journal articles and a lecture series sounds like a great deal of work; don’t you agree?”

Confused by his abruptness, Caroline nodded. “Um, sure. I actually did have some thoughts about topics to further explore in the journal articles. For example, I’d like to do a comparison analysis of tribal carvings and piece together a plausible theory on how our ‘mystery’ 13th-century scribe may have come in contact with the language.”

Relaxing slightly, Klaus leaned into her with a smile, “Well, I don’t know if we’ll want to delve into _all_ of my secrets from that time period, but I’ll do my best to help you with your research. Perhaps we could align the initial ‘discovery’ of the artifacts with convenient merchant trade routes?”

Blue eyes twinkling in excitement, she squeezed his hand and said enthusiastically, “That’s perfect! It helps explain the discrepancies with the timeline and the obvious issues with travel during that era.”

He looked down at their joined hands, grinning. “Am I perfect enough to earn the title of ‘professor’ again, sweetheart?”

Rolling her eyes, she gave his warm hand one last squeeze before muttering, “Not yet. _That_ you have to earn.”

“I look forward to it, love,” he murmured, gray eyes sparkling.

Meanwhile, a figure shrouded in shadows continued to stare at the mansion in perfect silence. It listened to Klaus and Caroline’s exchange with interest, before leaving almost as quickly as it appeared.    


	6. Only a Tiny White Lie. And Those Never Hurt Anyone

           Caroline excitedly added to her Phoenix Stone research notes, her nimble fingers flying over her keyboard at a supernatural pace. With Matt, her TA, still in Montana for almost two weeks, she didn’t have to worry about him suddenly appearing in her office to catch her doing inexplicable tasks — like the time he opened her office door and caught her easily lifting the heavy mahogany writing desk when her earring had rolled underneath it.

            Flustered, she had immediately slammed down the desk, trying to stammer her way through an explanation so she didn’t have to use compulsion. Compulsion always left a bitter taste in her mouth and she tried not to use it more than necessary (or to compel scumbags into giving to her charity). Since Matt had showed interest in the desk before, he already was aware that it was an early 1900s carved masterpiece that easily outweighed them both. Of course, he believed that it was a family heirloom belonging to her great-grandfather and not her father, but that was only a tiny white lie. And those never hurt anyone. She managed to bluff her way somewhat convincingly through the excuse that she was a powerlifting hobbyist. Miraculously, he believed her and then she had been able to distract him with a rare collection of spearheads.

            She added a footnote to her final paragraph, documenting that the _Mystic Falls Chronicle_ of 1916 had reported extensive property damage in multiple shops along Main Street. Unfortunately, only a handful of witnesses had been questioned by the police, and all displayed a peculiar lapse in memory and could not pinpoint any details that could prove helpful.

            Her fingers froze on the keys as she contemplated that phrase. _Peculiar lapse in memory_. She double-checked the timeline she had painstakingly pieced together for the stone’s history. She knew that it had been in an antique shop in Mystic Falls around World War I. While she didn’t know the name of the store, she noted that the article reported that Atticus Antiques was among the series of shops that had suffered damage. _Lapse in memory._ Was it possible that a supernatural element was involved with the stone after all?

            It didn’t escape her notice that the night of the extensive property damage also was a few nights after she was attacked and turned into a vampire. Could it be that there was a connection? She bent down to unlock the hidden panel in the side of her desk, feeling along the intricate carvings until the latch released. She carefully pulled out the box that held the stone, setting it on her desk and pulling on gloves before touching the red beryl. With an object that easily could be centuries upon centuries old if the tests proved accurate, it was best to take extra care with such a delicate, priceless relic.

            Its dull red finish was full of inclusions, and after initial scans using the MRI downstairs, the etchings appeared to be consistent with similar Anasazi tribal markings found in the Southwest. She examined a spiral petroglyph carved onto one side, very similar to those she had studied in cliff facings near Albuquerque. Many scholars believed that the spiral symbol was sacred to the Anasazi because it represented the summer and winter solstices. Like many ancient cultures, they associated deities with celestial objects and nature. It was theorized that some of their most important rituals took place on or around solstice events.

            Before Caroline could add anything further to her notes, her phone alarm went off, reminding her that her meeting with Klaus would begin in 30 minutes. She quickly saved her work, moving her files to a private server rather than the school’s server. She was hesitant to leave her most important research findings where her colleagues could easily gain access. Experience had taught her that unscrupulous individuals like Tyler Lockwood were convinced that “finders keepers” was applicable in academia and therefore any research tidbits he came across could be folded into his own findings without giving proper credit to her.

            To this day, her blood still boiled over the Aspasia incident. Aspasia, an intellectual leader to the ancient Greeks, was written about by such influential philosophers as Plato and Aristophanes. Her home became one of the most important intellectual salons of its time, where scholars flocked to trade ideas and share their knowledge. Caroline found parallels between some of Socrates’ writing and that of Aspasia, which was compelling by itself, but then her research revealed that Aspasia’s work predated that of many of Socrates’ theories, leading her to the conclusion that Aspasia influenced some of Socrates’ most important works. These explosive findings could change the way that many scholars understood gender politics of Ancient Greece, but unfortunately before Caroline could publish her research, Tyler had stolen her notes from the shared university server and incorporated them into his own writings to be published.

            Rather than confronting him, she had decided to humiliate him instead. She began adding multiple files to the shared server that appeared to contain unprecedented historical findings. For example, she hypothesized that the Peloponnesians had built a fascinating cult worship around the common sardine and used them in elaborate rituals and worshipped them as deities. Citing some impressive-sounding texts and scrolls that to her knowledge didn’t actually exist, she wove a convincing argument that while thin on historical facts, would easily convince a lazy dimwit like Tyler of its scholastic merit.

            She was proven right when Tyler attempted to publish “his” research in the _Journal of Hellenic Studies_. The editors published his work in their “Extraordinary Historical Inaccuracies” section, a sort of _Mean Girls_ -inspired segment for academic elitist snobs. To add to his mortification, Caroline kept having pizzas with extra sardines delivered to his office every day for the next two months. Miraculously after that, she noticed that Tyler’s research, while pitiful and ill-defined, did appear to at least be his own work. 

            Grinning at the memory of the sour look across Tyler’s face whenever other faculty members would inquire about his apparent fondness for pizza, Caroline carefully placed the Phoenix Stone back in its box and resealed it inside her desk’s hidden compartment. She was reluctant to tear herself away from the object that had played such an important role in her academic research, much like the Sun and Moon Curse, but she reminded herself that now that it was in her possession, she had all the time in the world to study it and learn its mysteries.

            Glancing at the clock, she inwardly cursed and started pulling out her compact and lip gloss, fussing with her hair and lamenting the extra humidity in the air. She was double-checking to make sure she had avoided lipstick teeth when she silently chastised herself for behaving like a giddy schoolgirl with her first crush. _You are a confident, intelligent 126-year-old vampire. You do not blush just because an insanely attractive, potentially dangerous hybrid has shown interest_. She rolled her eyes as she could hear Stefan in her head telling her to let go of her insecurities and fears and embrace life’s possibilities. Even decades after the Woodstock-Haight-Ashbury era, he was still such an insufferable hippie know-it-all.

            “Hello, sweetheart,” Klaus called from the threshold. He had his hands clasped behind his back and his gray eyes lit up in amusement as he watched her scurry to put away all evidence of her last-minute primping.

            Blushing furiously, she watched as her tube of lip gloss rolled across her large desk and stop near his feet. He picked it up and read aloud, “Blushing ambition.” He surveyed her flustered expression as she scrambled in front of him to reclaim her lip gloss. “What a perfect turn of phrase — it suits you.” He leaned in closer as their fingers briefly brushed, sending a bolt of electricity through her. “And I’m flattered you wanted to look your best, love, but I can assure you that you’re perfect just as you are.”

            Scoffing, she whirled around to stomp back to her desk. “So it never occurred to you that it might not have been about you? It amazes me that you and your ego can both fit in my cramped office, Klaus.”

            Eyes narrowing playfully, he flashed to her desk, placing his hands on top of a carefully organized stack of documents as he leaned over her. “So I have competition then, sweetheart? Do tell.” He glanced over her shoulder at her open laptop and observed, “Perhaps it’s this _Matt_ who cannot seem to go a few hours without sending you an email? A bit clingy, don’t you agree?”

            Caroline rolled her eyes, smiling inwardly at the way he said “Matt” as though it was an epithet. “ _Matty?_ ” She dissolved into helpless giggles as Klaus looked at her in confusion. “He’s my TA, and a brilliant Ph.D. candidate, possibly the best I’ve ever mentored. But he’s a child and also practically a little brother to me, so congrats for thoroughly creeping me out.” She brushed a blonde strand behind her ear, trying to mask a shiver that went through her as she noted how Klaus immediately relaxed with her explanation of her relationship with Matt. “He’s just checking in every once in a while, showing his gratitude for the surprise vacation I gave him as a reward for all of his hard work on this Phoenix Stone project.”  

            Klaus raised an eyebrow and said, “You mentioned last night you were making some headway.” He placed a hand on a precariously stacked set of books and added, “It appears you’re brushing up on Native American pictographs. Can I assume your scans of the stone proved conclusive?”

            Forcefully removing Klaus’ hand from her tower of books before it collapsed, she retorted, “First of all, it’s _petroglyphs_ : images carved into stone. A pictograph is a painting on stone. You’d think that would be something you would have learned with that Cambridge and Oxford education you _claim_ to have.” She cocked her head to the side and added suspiciously, “And why do you ask?”

            He shrugged nonchalantly and held up his hands in surrender. “No reason, love. Just thought I’d try to get to know you better. I assumed sharing an interest in your research would champion my cause. No matter — perhaps we should shift our focus to the Sun and Moon Curse project instead?”

            Relaxing slightly, Caroline nodded and pointed to one of the blue arm chairs in front of her desk. Once Klaus was settled, she accessed her project notes on her laptop. “I’ve made cursory notes concerning the comparison analysis of tribal carvings that a 13th-century scribe would have plausibly come in contact with. The Nsibidi script of West Central Africa that you attempted to replicate was used mainly by the Uguakima and Ejagham or Ekoi people of Nigeria and Cameroon. We need to craft a theory regarding the merchant trade routes the forger would have taken.”

            Klaus formed a steeple with his fingers as he amusedly watched her furiously typing away on her laptop. “You failed to mention that the nearby tribes of Ebe and Efik also employed Nsibidi script. Is it possible your scholastic endeavors are lacking in some crucial areas, sweetheart?”

            “Yeah, well, I also didn’t mention the Ibibio, Igbo and Uyanga people also used this writing, but I thought I’d refrain from going into too much unnecessary detail with an _amateur_ ,” she said in her best no-nonsense tone that she normally reserved for incompetent, whiny students.

            He cocked an eyebrow and smugly said, “Amateur? I suppose it was quite _amateurish_ of me to have thoroughly studied the monoliths in Nigeria prior to incorporating them into my Sun and Moon Curse tribal carvings.”

            Her blue eyes widened in surprise and she felt her breath catch as she excitedly asked, “You’ve seen them in person? Those incredible monoliths at Ikom date back to 2000 BC!” She smiled nostalgically as she informed him, “One of my first research assignments was to compare the shared characters found in the Nsibidi and Medu Neter scripts.”

            He scooted his chair closer to her desk, sliding a blank piece of paper in front of him where he began sketching out several familiar-looking symbols. Focused on his drawing, he didn’t look up from his work as he seductively cooed, “In your lecture, you accused me of not having a _firm grasp_ of the script. You said my markings were _too rigid_.” He lifted his gray eyes to capture her in a heated gaze. “That my writing was nothing but _hard edges_ without paying tribute to the _precise curves_ the ancient script demanded.”  

            Caroline swallowed harshly, feeling a sudden rush of warmth as she edged her laptop out of the way so that she could have an unobstructed view of his writing. “It just takes practice,” she replied, trying and failing to maintain an aloofness she needed to accept would never occur in his presence.

            His curly head dipped down, and he looked at her shyly from underneath his eyelashes as he whispered, “Perhaps I just need the right teacher, sweetheart.”

            She folded her hand over his, guiding his movements as they formed the sweeping curves of the symbol for war. “If you loosen your grip and use a gentle touch, it yields better results,” she breathlessly explained, startled to see how close they had moved toward each other. _Who knew debating proper character formation in Nsibidi script could be so sexy?_

            She frantically tried to follow up her clumsy innuendo with a sarcastic observation about his penmanship when he suddenly stood up and yanked her shoulders toward him, planting a ferocious kiss on her lips, causing her to emit an inarticulate squeak before she sank into him, allowing her fingers to knead the dirty blonde curls at the base of his skull as she brought him closer to her. He teased her with his tongue, leaving her bemused and helpless to his intoxicating bite of cologne and overwhelming, dominant presence.

            He groaned into the kiss, the desperate sound shooting straight through her body as she abandoned all reason and started calculating the sturdiness of her antique desk versus merely wrestling him down to her silver shag rug and having her wicked way with the hybrid. Before she could make a move, however, he stopped short, panting against her lips as he rested their foreheads together. “Caroline, love, I —”

            A cheerful voice cut him off before he could continue. “Caroline, I thought we were meeting at the quad for lunch so you could rant about —” Stefan threw open the door, stopping short when he saw Caroline and Klaus barely a breath apart, practically riding her antique desk. “Woah, okay, so that’s new,” he offered in a dry, embarrassed tone. Peeking at Caroline’s beet-red face, he added with a grin, “So I bail on _one_ movie night and this is what I miss?”

            “Stefan!” Caroline hurriedly straightened, patting down her curls that moments ago had been hopelessly tangled in Klaus’ strong hands. “We were just...this isn’t what it looks...I mean, we _were_ , but it was...” she stammered, mentally willing her reddened skin to calm down. Realizing it was a lost cause to try to reassert her dignity, she smiled brightly and gestured toward Stefan. “Klaus, this is my best friend, Stefan Salvatore. Stefan, this is Klaus Mikaelson, the newest addition to the history department that I’ve been working with.”

            Stefan grinned, shaking Klaus’ hand as he teased Caroline, “Didn’t mean to interrupt you working _it_ , Caroline. We can do lunch another time. Are you still coming tonight?”

            “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it,” she nodded excitedly. Her blue eyes sparkled as she said to Klaus, “You should come with us tonight! Stefan plays at this local bar, The Random Siren, and I was planning to hang out and listen to a few sets.”

            Klaus favored her with a small smile as he agreed, “Of course, sweetheart. I wouldn’t miss it.”

            Stefan clapped his hands in excitement. “Great! So, I guess I’ll let you guys get back to...whatever this is and I’ll see you both tonight.” He called over his shoulder as he left her office, “Nice meeting you, Klaus!”

            Caroline was confused when she thought she saw a momentary look of anger cross Klaus’ face, but quickly dismissed it when he slowly turned over her hand so that his lips could gently graze her palm. With his steel gray gaze boring into her, he softly intoned, “I can still feel your reluctance, Caroline. It’s probably for the best we were interrupted.” He added carefully, “I want you to be sure.”

            “Klaus, I —” she began awkwardly, reeling from his sincere demeanor. Unable to properly express what she was feeling, she smiled at him gratefully. “Thank you.”

            Releasing her hand, he moved back to his chair and suggested, “Perhaps we should continue our research strategy?”

            Nodding in agreement, Caroline returned to her laptop and began typing again while Klaus regaled her with charming anecdotes of his time spent in Nigeria at the site of the monoliths.

            They became so enraptured in their work and stealing sly glances at each other that they failed to realize the same pattern of footsteps had passed by Caroline’s closed office door with deliberate casualness multiple times.


	7. Knowledge is Always the Most Valuable Piece

Caroline was deeply offended. In no possible universe was Roquefort her spirit animal. She had absolutely nothing in common with that stinky, dripping mess the French dared to call a cheese. Tyler Lockwood was Roquefort.

At her angry huff, Stefan chuckled. “Come on, Caroline! You’re sharp and oftentimes salty — just embrace your cheese destiny and move on.”

Poking her index finger in his chest, she hissed, “Fine! Then you have to accept the fact that you’re mozzarella’s bitch.” At his scowl, she shrugged her shoulders innocently. “What? You’re smooth and mild and blend well with everything. Kind of like tofu, now that I think about it.”

His eyebrows nearly crested his hairline where he had outdone himself tonight with an over-gelled part somewhat reminiscent of Elvis. “You purposely picked the blandest, most boring cheese out there to describe me. I will have you know that I have hidden depths. I’m an enigma. You just _think_ you know all there is to know about me,” he finished, attempting to sound smug but instead crossing over into petulant.

Klaus watched the two curiously as they bickered good-naturedly. They had started playing this odd cheese game almost as soon as he and Caroline had arrived at the oddly named dive bar, _The Random Siren_. “Is there a rubric with which you judge each other’s assessments? If not, I fear this could take a while, love.”

Caroline nudged him in the ribs with an elbow, grinning as she clinked her beer bottle against Stefan’s. “Come on, haven’t you ever argued with your family or friends over random silliness like what kind of cheese is your spirit animal?”

Taking a swig of his beer, he said dryly, “My relationship with my family is apparently a bit more complicated than yours and Stefan’s.”

Moving her bottle to clink the neck against Klaus’, Caroline sighed wistfully. “That’s just sad. Stefan and I were friends first, but now we’re family, and I can’t imagine arguing with anyone else over burning questions like cheese personality assignments.” She patted his hand and added sincerely, “And I hope that one day, you and your family can be happy again.”

The steel in his gray eyes slid over her, and he seemed to hesitate before he finally answered, “Me too.”

Rolling his eyes, Stefan leaned back, propping his feet up on an empty barstool. “So Klaus,” he said mischievously, “You’re in for a treat. Did you know that when Caroline gets hammered, she likes to list all the inaccuracies in Indiana Jones movies?”

“Ugh, seriously?!” Caroline stuck out her tongue at Stefan and retorted, “At least I don’t sing Gilbert and Sullivan’s entire score and then get weepy because I wasn’t cast as Captain Corcoran and had to settle for the loser sailor chorus in _H.M.S. Pinafore_!”

Suddenly surly, Stefan took another gulp of his beer and said mulishly, “I was robbed and you know it. That little shit was the director’s son and that’s the only reason he got the part. Should’ve eaten him.”

Ignoring Stefan, Klaus turned to Caroline and asked with a smirk, “Tell me more about these inaccuracies in Indiana Jones movies that rankle you so?”

Throwing her hands in the air, she said, “Ugh! Don’t even get me started! First of all, no self-respecting archaeologist just grabs artifacts and bolts! You’re leaving behind valuable research about the people responsible for creating the artifacts. Knowledge is always the most valuable piece of any dig!” Pushing aside some blonde waves that had fallen across her cheek, she continued in irritation, “And Sankara Stones are completely fabricated! Do you have any idea how many idiot students get so excited when I cover ancient India in my lectures because they think we’ll talk about the _Temple of Doom_?!”

With a knowing wink, Klaus said knowledgably, “I see. I thought you were going to harp on the fact that in _Raiders of the Lost Ark_ , the film indicates that Nazis discovered the city of Tanis, but actually the city had been explored in the previous two centuries.”

Blue eyes widening, Caroline said a bit breathlessly, “Yes, in fact it was Napoleon who commissioned to have the site surveyed and in the next century, explorers were mostly concerned with collecting statuary until Auguste Mariette began excavations in 1860.” She was conscious that they had moved closer to each other during their exchange, knees rubbing against each other as she entwined her fingers with his.

With a derisive snort, Stefan scooted his chair away from their table and said, “Yeah, I’m out. At least _try_ to pretend you’re here to support my performance by flicking your heart eyes onto the stage every so often.”

Caroline rolled her eyes, waving off her friend. It was impossible to deny her attraction to Klaus at this point, especially given how she practically mauled him in her office earlier. Not that he seemed to mind, if she was interpreting the heat in his gray eyes when he looked at her. She was hesitant by nature, especially when it came to men, but Stefan’s encouragement to keep an open mind about Klaus had her feeling reckless and much more willing to test this improbable electricity between them.

Klaus glanced around the bar with its mismatched collection of dusty objects displayed along the walls. He made an unimpressed noise and said, “The unusual moniker of this bar led me to believe it would somehow be much more exciting.”

Taking another drink, Caroline nodded. “I know what you mean. There’s this buildup of anticipation with the unique name, so you kind of expect more, right?” She glanced around the room, noting the inexplicable decor and added, “It’s like the owners had an idea and then never followed through.”

“At the very least, I think an explanation of the random tuning fork haphazardly placed among the objects is warranted,” he added in a confused tone.

Shrugging, she answered, “I guess some things are beyond explanation.”

They lapsed into companionable silence while they watched Stefan onstage as he adjusted his guitar strings. The small crowd politely clapped as he began strumming the familiar chords to “The House of the Rising Sun” and his soothing voice flowed over the stage, the well-worn lyrics a comforting blanket. He gravitated toward folk rock, Caroline having witnessed firsthand how he connected with it almost on a spiritual level back in the 60s during its heyday.

Back then, they had settled near UC Berkeley so Caroline could pursue her tenth degree in history, this time focusing on Near Eastern civilizations, while Stefan was drawn to the hippie counterculture of Haight-Ashbury and its musical roots. Thanks to her friendship with Stefan, she had the rare opportunity to witness musical history. She still vividly recalled watching Janis Joplin and Bob Dylan collaborate with Miles Davis and Otis Redding, creating unique sounds and melodies, the likes of which she’d never heard before.

Lost in her memories of a gloriously stoned Janis trying to teach her to count the beat with a battered old tambourine, she almost missed Klaus asking her to dance. She allowed herself to be led to the small area off to the side where a few other couples were drunkenly dancing, and felt herself melt when she caught the surprisingly gentle smile on Klaus’ handsome face. She relaxed into his arms, loving the feel of his strong body against hers, and giggled when he twirled her unexpectedly, the emerald hem of her casual blouse dress flaring up around her thighs.   

His gray eyes glittered with a delightful wickedness, and he seemed to be humming along with the refrain as Stefan’s signature sorrowful voice echoed throughout the bar. She felt the hard lines of his chest twitch underneath the weight of her palm, and she found herself wondering what a peak at his bare skin would do to her overwhelmed senses.

His dimples cut into his cheeks, as though he sensed her lustful thoughts, and dipped his curly head down to murmur against her jawline, “You move with a fluid grace that would make an artist weep, sweetheart.” His penetrating gaze flicked down to her red lips briefly as he proudly added, “I’m the envy of every man here.”

Helpless to stop the silly grin that spread across her face, Caroline shook her head, muttering, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. That arrogance of yours is a bit of a mood-killer.”

Laughing softly, Klaus brushed aside her loose blonde waves to rumble, “Then let’s see what I can do to get you back in the mood, love.” With a sexy smirk, he took her by surprise by dipping her just as Stefan’s guitar notes faded with the song’s ending. Her blue eyes held his fiery gaze, searching for an anchor to this unfamiliar reality where she took a break from her hectic life and allowed herself to be romanced by a handsome stranger.

Impatient throat clearing from the stage interrupted their sweet moment, and she laughed at Stefan’s mocking glare, clapping along with the audience. He began picking out a familiar up-tempo tune, and she rolled her eyes when she recognized one of his standards, Bon Jovi’s “Livin’ on a Prayer”. They seemed to silently agree that glam rock was a mood killer, and she walked back to their table while Klaus went to get them another round.

She noticed Stefan had left his phone behind and it vibrated across the warped table insistently. Scowling at the number, she chose to ignore it, but almost as soon as the irritating call ended, another one began. Sighing, she swiped the screen and hissed, “What do you want that cannot possibly wait until tomorrow, Damon?”

“Blondie! Sooooo flattered you took time out from polishing Steffy’s knob to answer his phone for him,” Damon’s slurred words tumbled through the phone, making her cringe as she held it away from her ear.

Repulsed, Caroline spat, “Gross! You know damn well it’s never been like that with us! Seriously, just sleep off whatever you’re on, loser. Call your brother back when you sound less like...you.”

A muffled crash that sounded like several bottles breaking seemed to distract him before he recalled that he was on the phone. “Did you know, Blondie, that there’s this monastery in Sri Lanka that cooks down viper venom and mixes it with oxy?” He breathlessly added, “Soooo fucking good. It’s like you can _feel_ the stars when they burn you. A tight-ass brat like you should really try it; might loosen you up for once.”

Growling in annoyance she bit out, “For your information, I’m on a date right now and we’re watching Stefan play.” She spied Klaus reaching into his back pocket, outlining the graceful curve of his ass as he generously tipped the bartender. She blinked rapidly, trying to stay focused on the unwelcome caller.

Snorting, Damon mumbled, “And your date doesn’t mind Stefan third-wheeling? Sounds like a loser.”

“Klaus is _anything_ but a loser,” she said defensively. “And seriously, like I’d take dating advice from a walking STD.”

Suddenly more alert, Damon was uncharacteristically serious as he asked, “Klaus? As in one of the Originals? That whole family is crazy, Blondie. You and Stefan need to stay far, far away from them. They’re nothing but trouble.”

Curiosity got the better of her and she replied, “How do you know about them?” Closing her eyes briefly, she pinched the bridge of her nose as she asked hesitantly, “ _Please_ tell me you haven’t slept with Klaus.”

Scoffing, he revealed, “No, but there’s this psycho sister that gets _way_ too clingy. Fantastic lay and _so_ hot, but so not worth it.”

Realizing Klaus was headed back to the table, she lost what little patience she had with Damon and said harshly, “You can’t judge an entire family based on one relative! That would be like people unfairly judging Stefan because his loser brother is snorting and screwing his way through life!” She ended the call and turned off the phone for good measure. Smiling brightly as Klaus sat back down beside her, she accepted the beer he handed her.

“Who was that, love?”

Fiddling with the corner of the label on her bottle she replied, “Just Stefan’s idiot brother. He calls Stefan every so often, completely wasted but wanting to reminisce about all of the ‘good times’ they used to have that apparently only happened in Damon’s mind.”

Stiffening slightly, a curious scowl crept across his face. Before she could comment, he furrowed his brow and commiserated with, “I have a younger brother like that. In fact, I would wager his penchant for trouble may even rival that of your friend’s brother.”

Perking up at the realization that Klaus seemed to want to share more about himself, she scooted her chair closer to him and eagerly asked, “A brother? Is this Elijah, the one you told me about when we first met that helped you create rumors of the Sun and Moon Curse?”

Clearly pleased that she remembered details of their first encounter, Klaus answered, “No, love, Elijah was always a bit stodgy for my tastes. I was speaking of another brother, Kol, who used to run us ragged trying to clean up his bothersome messes. Between him and our sister, it was a nightmare.”

She tried to keep her face neutral at the revelation of a sister like Damon had told her. It would be hypocritical of her to pass judgement on someone she hadn’t even met. Besides, if she was anything like Damon, Klaus most likely would appreciate someone to vent to about his sister’s troublemaking ways like Stefan often did with her. Detecting a hint of sadness in his voice, she said hesitantly, “I know you told me earlier that your relationship was complicated, but it sounds like you miss them.” Squeezing his hand, she asked, “Have you thought about reaching out to them?” Blue eyes twinkling, she added, “Maybe even see if they’d like to attend one of our future kick-ass lectures?”

Amused, Klaus shook his head, “That would be a sight, love, but I doubt they’re interested in my academic pursuits.” His smile wavered as he said almost as an afterthought, “I suspect they’ll join me, sooner or later.” Sensing his discomfort, she quickly changed the subject, and they chatted amicably while listening to Stefan finish his final set for the evening.

After the bar closed, Stefan lagged behind to chat up on of the pretty brunette waitresses while Caroline left with Klaus, trying to fight down the butterflies that had appeared as she realized she needed to make a decision about what happened next with their date. Was she ready for more? Was it too soon?  

Before she could mindlessly begin chattering to distract from the tension between them, her phone rang. Noting the shelter’s number, she hurriedly apologized to Klaus before answering. “Jenna? Is everything ok?” Her worry was reflected in her tone, and Klaus squeezed her fingers in a soothing gesture.

“Caroline! You’ll never guess what happened!” Jenna’s bubbly cry was filled with joy as she explained, “I just received a call from a contracting firm. Apparently, an anonymous donor has paid for them to design and build an enormous game room on our property!” She couldn’t hold back her excited squeals as she shouted, “Can you imagine how excited everyone’s going to be?! And the kids! Oh, my gosh, the kids are gonna love it!”

A thousand emotions surged through Caroline’s body as she processed the news. _Anonymous donor. Game room_. Finally finding her voice, she exclaimed, “Jenna, that’s unbelievable! We’re so lucky! I can’t wait to get started planning it with you!” She ended the call, never taking her eyes from Klaus who was studying her apprehensively. “It was you,” she said softly. “I told you about how we lost our game room to make sure we had space for everyone. You did this.”  

“Caroline, what you’ve done with your charity is extraordinary. I know how important the shelter is to you, and I wanted to do something to help.” He seemed almost shy as he gazed at her from underneath his lashes, but was clearly taken aback when she launched herself at him, an attack of enthusiastic sunshine that wrapped around his body, pushing him up against a brick storefront as she kissed him passionately. He groaned into her kisses, digging his fingers into the loose material gathered at the small of her back, sliding his tongue against hers.

She sank into his warmth, rubbing a bare leg against his denim-clad thigh as she fought the urge to wrench his black henley over his head right then and there. “Klaus, she mumbled breathlessly against his swollen lips, “What you did for me, for my charity is so beyond anything I could have expected. I can’t begin to tell you what your kindness means to me.” She swooped in for another intense kiss, fighting the shudder that went through her body when she spied the flecks of gold bleeding into his steel gaze.

He grasped her shoulders, wrenching his mouth from hers as he panted heavily, resting his forehead against hers. “Sweetheart, as much as I’d like to continue this, there’s something I need to tell you.” He licked his bottom lip nervously, clearly searching for the right words to say. “It’s important that you understand that the things I’ve done or will do — it’s not who I wish to be with you.”

Wrinkling her brow in confusion, Caroline took in the worry in Klaus’ eyes and said, “I don’t understand. What’s wrong?”

Sighing heavily, Klaus revealed, “Caroline, when I first came here, I —”

Suddenly, an impatient female voice snarled, “For pity’s sake, Nik! Quit arsing about and just take the bloody stone from her already!”


	8. Bravo on the Upgrade, Brother

Decades ago, a massive stalactite broke off from the ceiling of Altamira Cave and cracked Caroline’s sternum when she was attempting to explore Paleolithic rock paintings. The choking pressure felt like knives in her chest whenever she took even the slightest breath. She thought she had never experienced such pain in her heart as it sluggishly pushed her blood throughout her body, slowly healing itself. _Until now. This was so much worse_.

She felt the rough scrape of the brick storefront as she pushed herself out of Klaus’ arms, her heart beating rapidly. She tried to process the awkward scene before her, but her senses seemed dulled somehow, as though the obvious implications of being played for a fool had rendered her incapable of all rational thought. Klaus’ gray eyes were downcast and the guilty expression upon his handsome face seemed so out of character that it made her uncomfortable. The blonde stranger’s words maliciously carved themselves into her flesh. _Take the bloody stone from her_. Caroline was an unwitting participant in a chess game. Every flirtatious smirk, every burning look, had all been for the purpose of this cursed game. And she had played her part beautifully. Blindly. _Nothing had been real_.

“Rebekah,” Klaus growled furiously, gnashing his teeth, “Leave us. Now!”

Caroline nodded numbly. She was proud of the way she swallowed down any hint of tears and studied the attractive stranger with a calmness she did not feel. Rebekah possessed the haughty, simplistic beauty of a model, but the hint of a predator was there as well, simmering just below the surface of those icy blue eyes. She wondered if this is what drew Damon to her, this cold, shark’s demeanor. If so, they were clearly made for one another. “This is your sister then? Can I assume your brothers aren’t far behind,” Caroline asked, the sharp edge to her voice mercilessly slicing the air between them. “Apparently, all it takes for a Mikaelson family reunion is the Phoenix Stone,” she accused, the spite in her voice granting her strength.

Scoffing, Rebekah crossed her arms, the magenta-colored silk of her blouse flowing over her ivory skin with a soft whisper. “So, not as stupid as she appears then. Normally, your tarts’ cup sizes are larger than their IQs. Bravo on the upgrade, brother,” she observed viciously, a satisfied smile bleeding across the bitter lines of her face.

Fists clenched in anger, Klaus stepped toward his sister, gray eyes blazing. “Enough! Do not speak to Caroline in that disrespectful manner again,” he threatened.

Unimpressed, his sister sneered, “ _I’m_ disrespectful? What of _your_ actions, dear brother? I’ve been following you and your blonde bit of fluff all around this pitiful town and rather than taking the stone and restoring what our family has lost, you’ve been disrespecting our brother’s memory by sporting with this common trollop! What of your promises of always and forever?!”

Caroline inwardly raged at Rebekah’s hollow insults. She arched an eyebrow and frostily said to Rebekah, “Since you’re making judgements about my morals and intelligence based on my appearance and your biased intuition, I suppose I can return the favor.” Her sharp blue eyes glittered with malice as she continued, “From your self-admitted stalking and bizarre ravings about eternal vows, I’m going to assume your family is uncomfortably closer than Klaus led me to believe. I’m not a fan of _Game of Thrones_ , so Cersei Lannister, kindly take back your brother and fuck off.”

She realized that at 126, she really should be past this pettiness, but his hateful sister’s indignant shout pleased her to no end. As Caroline started to storm off, Klaus grabbed her arm in desperation. “Wait! Caroline, I’m sorry; I should have told you from the start my true purpose in seeking you out.” The distress found on his face was heartbreaking to behold as he sought to make her understand. “You took me by surprise and I found myself completely under your spell before I realized it. I never wanted to hurt you and I _swear_ that my feelings for you are real. It’s just that I also...” he trailed off helplessly, trying to find the words that would somehow convince her.

She shook her head angrily, ferociously yanking her arm out of the hybrid’s grip. “You also want the Phoenix Stone,” she finished for him, practically grinding out the words. She quickly thought back to what she knew of the stone’s mythology and Rebekah’s curious words about ‘restoring what our family has lost’. She told them, “Legends speak of the Anasazi using the stone to trap the souls of their enemies. I’m going to make an educated guess that this legend is more fact than fiction and one of your brothers’ souls is inside.” At the siblings’ stunned faces, she gave a wintry smile. “So which one is it? Kol or Elijah?”

“Elijah,” Rebekah answered in an oddly choked voice. “Right here in 1916, our father hunted us down and trapped our brother in the stone. We managed to kill our father, but not before he hid the stone with Elijah inside so we couldn’t find it.”

The pieces slowly fell into place for Caroline. This supernatural battle explained her research findings about extensive property damage and the odd occurrence of eyewitnesses being unable to remember anything they saw. Her anger at being a pathetic pawn gave her much-needed clarity to navigate the swirling vortex of her messy feelings. “Got it — so your family has been searching for the Phoenix Stone for a century and somewhere along the way you found out I have been researching it for decades. Klaus insinuated himself into my life, willing to seduce the clueless bookworm to get back his brother.” She looked him up and down, her harsh tone unforgiving. “Your lack of self-respect is astonishing.”

A golden flare of anger flickered across his steel gray gaze and Klaus commanded, “Don’t you dare try to cheapen what I feel for you, Caroline! Yes, I initially approached you with an ulterior motive, but I was finally ready to confess it all to you.” He muttered almost as an afterthought, “I’ve _been_ trying to tell you.”

“ _Your_ confession. _Your_ feelings. This was never really about me; it was always about _you_. _You_ used me, Klaus! And like an idiot I fell for every lie you told me. Save your confession, hybrid! Your words are worthless,” Caroline screamed, her blue eyes searing a hole through the deceitful Original.

She was startled by a comforting pair of arms wrapping around her and a soothing voice in her ear. “I’ve got you; it’s okay.” Stefan’s soft voice nearly broke her, but she held onto the last shreds of her dignity to glare at Klaus over her best friend’s shoulder. “I heard everything,” Stefan spat at Klaus and Rebekah, shielding Caroline from their sight. “You’re both monsters. What you did to her is unforgiveable, Klaus. Stay away from her,” he threatened, hugging her tightly.

Klaus angrily stepped toward Stefan, but before he or Rebekah could speak, Stefan flashed Caroline away, where the night swallowed whatever useless words the hybrid dared to utter.   

* * *

Once Stefan brought her back to her home, she fled to her bedroom, blindly grabbing her most comfortable clothes and then locking herself in the bathroom to have a good long cry. She was humiliated and angry. She felt as though she had allowed herself to be betrayed. Had she made herself an easy target for that lying asshat? Was her loneliness and need for companionship that obvious?

The persistent knocking on her bathroom door pulled her from her miserable thoughts. “Come on, Caroline. Will you please come out,” Stefan asked gently, the concern in his voice causing her tears to fall more steadily. “Please? I know you’re huddled in that tiny bathtub and it’s just going to be awkward if I have to scrunch down in there with you,” he added in mock irritation.

She pushed back the damp blonde curls from her flushed face, hugging her knees as she rocked herself in the porcelain bathtub. “Go away, Stefan. I’m not ready to talk about it,” she muttered brokenly, loathing how weak she sounded. “No one knows the real me. No one _wants_ to know me and I’m destined to be alone forever,” she added bitterly.

He scoffed, continuing to bang on her door as he bragged, “I’ll take that challenge. I’m your best friend and know you better than anyone and there’s going to be someone out there who wants to know you too. Don’t let that jackass get to you. He’s not worth it, Caroline.” He paused and said slyly, “I’m going to _prove_ I know you. If I guess correctly what you’re wearing right now, you have to come out so we can have movie night. Deal?”

She rolled her eyes, briefly glancing down at her wrinkled outfit. She had far too many comfortable clothes; there was no way he’d win. “Deal,” she muttered, somewhat wetly, but still sounding stronger than she did a few moments ago.

He seemed to be considering his options before he slowly rattled off, “Pink and white grizzly paw fuzzy slippers and gray yoga pants.”

She huffed and stubbornly answered, “Lucky guess. You’ll never guess my shirt, though.”

“It’s powder blue and says, ‘Archaeologists do it in the dirt’,” Stefan smugly replied.

Caroline jumped out of the bathtub, stomping over to the door to throw it open. “Seriously? How did you know that? Can you see through the keyhole,” she asked suspiciously, bending down to peer at the metal hole more closely.

Stefan’s reassuring smile and warm brown eyes made her heart feel lighter somehow. “Well, you showed me the shirt when it arrived at your office this week and I know you absolutely hate doing laundry until the end of the week, so I figured it was a safe bet you’d continue wearing it until then.” He took a comically big whiff of her shoulder and said, “Of course, it’s getting a little ripe, so you might want to consider hanging it on your balcony tomorrow to let it air out a bit.”

She rolled her eyes, shoving past him playfully as she walked toward her kitchen, admiring the exposed brick and open shelves that originally drew her to the place. The building was once a wood mill built in the 1890s, but after it closed down in the 1970s, a developer turned the building into a collection of stylish lofts, which Caroline jumped at the chance to own a bit of her town’s history. As she pulled out several bottles of wine from the rack, she asked, “So what are we watching? And keep in mind that if you say _South Pacific_ , this friendship is over,” she scowled at him, pointing her finger threateningly.

“But, ‘I’m Gonna Wash that Man Right Outa My Hair’ is perfect for this situation,” Stefan protested, pulling down two wine goblets from the shelf over the bar.

Rolling her eyes, Caroline retorted, “Hardly. In the movie, when Nellie sings that song, she’s upset that Emile has fathered two children that he failed to tell her about. There’s no mention of him using her to obtain a priceless mystical artifact.”

Frowning at the bite to her words, Stefan handed her the goblets, which she promptly filled to the brim with their go-to merlot, _14 Hands_. Taking a sip of the rich red with a hint of blueberries, he observed, “I suppose we could marathon _Ancient Aliens_ and make fun of the experts’ credentials.”

“Nah, too easy,” she replied, drinking her entire glass and automatically refilling it while Stefan looked on in concern. She stared at the wine, swirling it a bit in her glass as though waiting for it to somehow produce the answers she craved. “I’m fine, Stefan,” she said quietly. “It wasn’t even a _real_ relationship. And I barely knew him so it’s not like I got attached or anything.”

He wordlessly came around the gray and silver-flecked granite island and hugged her tightly. When he pulled away from her, he plastered on a cheerful grin and said firmly. “So then are you up to the challenge of judging Disney on its historical inaccuracies?” 

Perking up instantly, she clinked the rim of her goblet with his and said, “Always. Let’s start with confusing historical fashion timelines and drink every time Hans Christian Andersen would roll over in his grave.”

“ _The Little Mermaid_ it is then,” Stefan said cheerfully, grabbing extra bottles of wine and hauling them into the living room. They settled on her squashy, comfortable couch and quickly made it through four bottles of wine heckling the movie.

Caroline pointed at Grimsby and screeched, “There! See? Grimsby is obviously a time traveler with those Georgian-style clothes and he somehow was transported at least 40 years into the future if you go by that pink dress of Ariel’s.” She took another hearty gulp and pondered, “Do you think maybe he’s actually a spy for Ursula and she sent him there to sabotage Ariel?”

Stefan lazily took a drink, snorting at his friend’s analysis. “You do realize that the decorative incisions in the sleeves of that pink dress could easily fit in with Renaissance clothing too? It’s possible that Grimsby is actually a time traveler from the future who was sent back several centuries into the past. Therefore, he’s obviously an evil minion of Ursula’s surviving progeny sent back to usurp the lovers who murdered their beloved matriarch.”

She scoffed, peeling off the gold corner of one of the bottle’s labels. “Probably for the best. He’s saving them some time with all his shady usurping. That way, Ariel won’t have to wake up one day and realize she’s sacrificed her chordate identity for a sleazy, dimpled asshat liar.”

He carefully set down his glass, his heightened senses noting the tiny catch to her voice as she tried to maintain her venomous diatribe. “Caroline, can we talk about this yet?”

She faltered, opening her mouth and then shutting it rapidly. Her blue eyes were swimming with stubborn tears that she refused to let fall. She thought she’d filled her quota for tears this evening. Coupled with her drinking, she was looking at a severely dehydrated morning. She was saved from having to answer as the opening notes to their favorite song in the movie began. Squealing excitedly, she clapped her hands and gave Stefan her best sad puppy eyes. She begged, “Please, please? Will you do the thing?”

Stefan rolled his eyes good-naturedly, and heaved a mocking sigh. “Oh, all right.” He tapped experimentally on the empty and near-empty wine bottles and took a few moments to place them strategically on top of her old coffee table. The thick planks were a perfect sound conductor, and soon, he was tapping out a melodic accompaniment using the edge of her remote against the glass bottles as the characters sang “Kiss the Girl”.

Caroline giggled, clapping along enthusiastically to Stefan’s efforts, and felt sorry for people who might never experience the magic that was her best friend “playing the bottles”. She let herself enjoy this moment, caught somewhere between the euphoria of the wine and the security that comes from knowing you have someone you can always count on. As the last ping of the glass died away, she sighed contentedly, leaning back into the couch once more.

She fondly kicked the worn edge of the table with one white claw of her fuzzy slippers and said, “Jesse made me this table a few years ago. He and some of the other shelter volunteers knew I liked vintage pieces and found someone selling old barn wood. They surprised me with it on Boss’ Day, which you know damn well none of those guys had a clue existed, so I’m sure Jenna hounded them until they remembered,” she chuckled, her tone becoming morose the longer she looked at the lovingly restored surface. “Jesse and Jenna have been through so much, but they made it through together. You look at them and just _know_.” She sniffed, then angrily blinked back tears. “Maybe we don’t all get that,” she added softly.

Stefan enveloped her in a ferocious hug, his over-gelled bouffant crunching under the pressure of their tight embrace. They both snorted, this pair of old friends whose bond had been built on a foundation of sarcastic, awkward moments. Stefan finally murmured, “Everyone gets someone. And you deserve the _very best_ of someones.” He pulled away, his brown eyes serious as he declared, “He doesn’t know how much he lost tonight. He’s going to suffer the rest of his miserable immortal life without you while you are going to find the person who is meant to be yours. You two will be deliriously, disgustingly happy together and I can’t wait to roll my eyes and snarkily mock your perfect happiness.”

Caroline rewarded him with a small, watery smile. “Thanks, Stefan.”

Topping off her glass, he tried to lighten the mood with, “You know, in your excitement to heckle the bizarre mishmash of fashion trends, you completely forgot about your signature rant concerning the artwork.”

Caroline scrunched up her nose. “Ugh, you’re right! In the cave, she’s squirreled away Georges de la Tour’s ‘Magdalene with the Smoking Flame’, which, as you know, was painted between 1638 and 1640. Even if we ignore the skewed clothing timeline, this painting has supposedly been soaking in salt water for centuries, undoubtedly the canvas disintegrated beyond recognition, and I seriously doubt that if that was the case it would have been purchased in 1949 from the French Administration des Douanes.”

“Indeed. Having recently seen the piece on display at LACMA, I can assure you it is in pristine condition,” a crisp accent informed them, unexpectedly floating in from her large balcony. The French doors had been thrown wide open to catch the night breeze, and Klaus calmly crossed the threshold into her living room as though he had been politely invited.

Both Caroline and Stefan shot to their feet with growls of righteous indignation perched upon their lips. Stefan stepped in front of Caroline and bravely faced the intruding hybrid. “You lying piece of shit! What the fuck gives you the right to barge in here?! You’ve already hurt Caroline once; I’m not about to let you do it again!”

Klaus stoically watched the overprotective vampire curl his hands into angry fists. His gray eyes lost some of their trademark steel when they flickered to Caroline for the briefest of moments before finding their way back to Stefan.

Caroline found she couldn’t place the odd expression on Klaus’ face. He clearly was enraged, but also seemed oddly reluctant to speak. However, his tone was spiteful when he revealed, “I may be a liar, but I’m not the only one, Stefan. Now, do you want to tell Caroline, or shall I?”


	9. A Debt I Could Never Repay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have some more angst to get through in this chapter, but some secrets are getting revealed!

            The color had drained from Stefan’s face as his expression of righteous indignation morphed into something more... _tainted_. Guilt. Caroline’s best friend suddenly carried the overwhelming stench of guilt. _What was going on? What was she missing?_ She took a hesitant step toward Stefan, her hand trembling slightly as she touched his arm, seeking to anchor herself in this moment of uncertainty where her swirling thoughts threatened to consume her whole. “Stefan? What does Klaus mean?”

            He closed his eyes before slowly turning around to face her, and when he opened them, the familiar warm brown was full of shame and, oddly, a sliver of fear. “Caroline,” he sighed, “it’s not what you think. Don’t listen to him; he’s just trying to confuse you,” he pleaded, a note of panic entering his voice near the end.

            “Confuse me about _what_ ,” she asked, her volume getting louder as she sensed concealment within Stefan. “And I can’t think _anything_ yet because _you_ haven’t told me! Now what is it that has both of you so upset?!”

            Stefan opened his mouth and then shut it rapidly, his eyes suddenly calculating as though searching for a way to navigate through this unpleasantness.

            Growing impatient at the vampire’s stalling, Klaus grit his teeth, his gray eyes flashing dangerously. “He’s trying to figure out a way to keep from revealing that he was there the night you became a vampire, sweetheart. That it’s his worthless brother’s fault.”

            Caroline snatched back her hand from Stefan, retreating up a few paces until she had put the couch between her and both men. “Stefan was...no, because we didn’t meet until the next day and he happened to see me and recognized I was in transition. We met by _accident_ and Stefan...rescued me.” She spoke haltingly, her mind trying to work through what she recalled about her attack and the events following it. “Isn’t that what happened,” she croaked, as her throat became thick with tears.

            Stefan bowed his head in shame. “Caroline, Damon had gone on one of his reckless binges again and I was there to clean up after him. I found him right after he attacked you, and I thought...it was too late for you, that you were already gone, so I pulled him away and took off with him.”

            As her blue gaze darkened angrily at his explanation, he hastily added, “But I came right back to take care of you...but your body was gone.” He rubbed his hands over his face as he sorrowfully added, “I realized something was wrong, so I went looking for you. You needed my help, so I taught you what I could about being a vampire, but Caroline, I swear I _stayed_ all these years with you because you became my best friend.”

            The hybrid’s tone was filled with disgust as he spat, “You watched your foul brother attack Caroline and you did _nothing_ to save her! All this time, you have allowed that loathsome creature near her, knowing she’d been searching for answers to what happened to her.”

            Caroline couldn’t stop the dark images that flashed through her mind. _The incredible speed of her attacker, the way he slammed her against the brick wall of the dark alley and held her there in an iron grip she couldn’t escape. Her neck still ached with the phantom pain of sharp fangs viciously digging into her flesh. She couldn’t understand why one side of her body was suddenly covered in something warm and wet, but then she inhaled the acrid metallic stench, and she understood it was her own blood._

            Concerned by the way she seemed to be lost in her own macabre thoughts, Stefan walked over to her, reaching out helplessly. “Caroline? Are you alright?”

            _What a stupid question_. It was likely she’d never be alright again. She pulled herself out of the horrific, familiar scene she had played out in her mind almost every day, snarling at the man she had once thought of as family. “You watched Damon attack me. You _watched_?! You _thought_ I was dead, so you just left me there? And then, you came back to what, exactly? Bury my body? Am I supposed to _thank you_ for that?!”

            Klaus flashed over to Stefan, jerking him away from Caroline and growling, “Keep your distance, mate.”

            Blonde waves swirling around her shoulders in a furious golden halo, she shrieked at Stefan, “All this time, I thought you were a hero! Selflessly taking me and showing me how to survive this nightmare!” Breathing heavily, her voice became bitter as she observed, “I thought I had a debt I could never repay.” 

            “Caroline, no,” Stefan begged, uselessly fighting against Klaus’ steel grip. “Please, just let me explain. It wasn’t like that, I promise!”

            “You _promise?_ I don’t want to hear it, Stefan. I now know what _your_ promises are worth,” she said venomously. She pointed toward the door and commanded, “Get the fuck out of my sight.”

            Stefan protested, looking wildly at the black veins that crawled under Klaus’ eyes. “No! I’m not leaving you here with him!”

            “You don’t get to make judgement calls for me anymore. _Leave_ ,” Caroline hissed.

            He clearly wanted to say more, but between Klaus’ enraged growl and Caroline’s heartbroken face, he stopped himself from pleading his case. Eyes downcast, he quietly left her loft in disgrace.  

            The silence that followed Stefan’s departure choked the air between Caroline and Klaus. Her blue eyes had been so filled with fiery rage moments ago when she watched Stefan walk away, but now they were empty, lifeless, and utterly unsettling to the hybrid. As the black veins left his handsome face, he shifted his heavy boots nervously, waiting for her to speak. However, Caroline seemed content to stare at nothing, her beautiful face uncharacteristically impassive.

            “Love,” Klaus began uncertainly, “I didn’t mean to cause you further hurt by revealing Stefan and Damon’s crimes against you. I just couldn’t bear the thought of their deceitful charade continuing.”

            Something hot flickered in her stony gaze, and while she remained fixated on the floorboards, she acidly said, “ _Their_ deceitful charade. _Right._ It appears you boys have more in common than I _ever_ could have imagined.”

            He flashed in front of her, grasping her arms as he impatiently waited for her to look at him. “I came here to make amends, sweetheart. I know you must think the worst of me, but I would very much like us to start over. I fancy you.”

            Caroline shook her head, ignoring the way her heart began pounding at his urgent pleas. “Get out, Klaus,” she growled lowly, a blazing fire fueling her gaze once more.

            “Not yet, I have — there’s — there’s something else I need to tell you,” Klaus stumbled over his words, the urgency in his voice apparent.

            “No!” Her strangled scream echoed throughout the loft’s open space. “No more!” She broke free of his hold, pushing against his chest with all her might. She stared him down with all the rage of Hades’ furies, her voice vibrating with power as she demanded, “Get. Out.”

            Something seemed to break inside of Klaus, and the fight left that steel gray stare. Nodding once, he flashed away from her and out of her loft without another word.

            The moment Caroline was alone, the anger that had fueled her seemed to flee as quickly as it arrived, and she collapsed in a heap upon the floor. She felt the well-worn grooves of the restored pine beneath her legs, and it somehow offered a small bit of comfort. _This was her home. She was safe. She would survive this. Because she was Caroline Forbes_.  

* * *

 

            The next day, she awoke with a renewed sense of purpose. The devastation she felt at Klaus’ betrayal as well as Stefan’s and Damon’s was indescribable. However, she also knew that she had people counting on her, and she would be damned if she let them down. She would soldier through this just like every other awful thing life had thrown her way. She would allow herself to be angry or sad or any other emotion she felt until she wasn’t any longer — _that_ was how she would heal.

            With a cheerful smile that didn’t quite reach her tired eyes, she walked across the mansion’s property, waving to some of the residents and volunteers as they went about their daily activities. She opened the door to the wooden shed behind the mansion and rifled through the cabinets and shelves until she found what she had been searching for.

            At the noisy giggles behind her back, she felt her smile lift up into something much more genuine and she turned around, clutching several fishing poles, while excitedly asking, “Who’s ready to go fishing?!”

            Several small children bounced upon and down, waving their hands as they shouted eagerly, “Me! me! me!”

            Laughing in delight, she handed them the fishing poles and led them to the small pond at the property’s edge. Occasionally, children were temporary residents at her shelter, sometimes with their parents, but sometimes, heartbreakingly alone. She made it her mission to banish the raw despair and hollow fear she would often catch in their eyes, and one way to help them was with a distraction. The simple act of fishing was an activity she had shared with her father when she was a child, and teaching others was a way she could honor his memory.

            She helped them cast the rods, and when they snagged their lines on submerged tree roots, she showed them how to tie on new fishing lures. A couple of the boys wanted to use live bait, and she saw from their impish grins they thought she would be too grossed out to help them catch grasshoppers. Much to their surprise, she crouched down in the grass beside them, showing them how to watch the tops of the tall weeds for the slightest movement and then pounce. She also told the group that the one who caught the biggest grasshopper would get an extra scoop of ice cream after dinner. Soon, the field was full of laughter as they jumped and raced after the insects, only capturing a few at a time so Caroline could show them how to properly bait their hooks.    

            Once the children had settled again along the edge of the pond, Caroline allowed her mind to wander back to her troubles. Klaus’ betrayal stung less somehow in the wake of what she had learned about Stefan and Damon. She barely knew Klaus and she admonished herself for not listening to her instincts when it came to the two-faced hybrid. She had known he had an agenda right from the start, but she had allowed herself to be seduced by his looks and charm.

            At least now she knew where she stood with him. However, she wasn’t sure how to approach the uncomfortable situation he had caused by insinuating himself into her professional life. How could she possibly be expected to work with him on university research projects now that she knew the truth? Refusing to dwell on that particular problem just yet, she turned her mind to the more troubling revelations about Stefan and Damon.

            Caroline had instinctively despised Damon from the moment she officially met him, and she wondered now if that had been her subconscious trying to protect her. He always had existed along the perimeter of her world, a safe distance away where whatever debauchery he engaged in was beyond her reach or care. It shouldn’t have come as such a shock that this despicable vampire had been the one that had attacked her. One look in those dark eyes of his was enough to grasp the empty void in his soul.

            _But Stefan_ _—_ _Stefan was another matter entirely_. How could he have falsely held her trust for all these years, knowing that he had denied her the truth? That he held within his grasp the answers to her nightmares and cruelly withheld them was almost more than she could bear. She didn’t know when or if she could begin to understand what had driven him to betray her so soundly.

            Jenna’s boisterous voice interrupted her bleak thoughts. “Caroline! The lead designer from the contracting firm wants to meet with you this afternoon to discuss plans for the game room.”

            Caroline’s face fell as she recalled the exorbitant donation Klaus had made so that her shelter could build a game room for its residents. His unexpected generosity had been a turning point in their relationship and with a pang in her heart, she realized that the moment she heard that news was the last second of happiness she had experienced with him before it had been ripped away. She briefly toyed with the idea of telling Jenna to cancel the lying hybrid’s donation, but she realized that she couldn’t deny her residents this simple pleasure, not after so much had been taken from them.

            Nodding, she answered, “That sounds fine. Just jot down your ideas and I’ll discuss them with the designer.” She noticed the brunette was reaching for her fishing pole. Confused, she asked, “What are you doing?”

            “Taking over for you. I’ll watch the munchkins so you can visit with our special guest,” Jenna answered with a gentle smile. “Klaus is waiting for you on the back porch,” she added, comically wiggling her eyebrows.

            She hated how her heart began beating rapidly at Jenna’s words. _Why was Klaus there? What could he possibly want now?_ Squaring her shoulders, she handed the fishing pole to Jenna and marched toward the mansion with grim determination.

            When she arrived at the covered porch, she took a moment to appreciate how Klaus’ strong jaw twitched as though he was nervous. _Good_. He hurriedly stood from one of the Adirondack chairs and quickly said, “Caroline, I know you don’t wish to see me, but I have more to tell you.”

            Suddenly bone-weary, Caroline sighed, surprising him by sitting down in the chair beside his. Gesturing impatiently for him to sit, she tiredly asked, “So, who else in my life is betraying me?”


	10. Slowly Slicing Away Pieces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, Klaus will reveal the rest of what he knows to Caroline. What will she choose to do with this information?

The heartbroken look on Klaus’ face normally would have made Caroline melt — except she knew now that he didn’t have a heart. Well, not one that wasn’t buried under centuries of paranoia, anger and a mercenary mindset that allowed him to coldly manipulate and deceive. “Well,” she said impatiently, “get on with it. Get out every awful thing you wish to tell me right now, Klaus, because what you’ve been doing so far? This slowly slicing away pieces of me is a level of cruelty I desperately need to believe you don’t have in you.”

He frowned, shaking his head in protest. “Sweetheart, I never meant for my charade to have gone on as long as it did. I wish you could believe me when I say that my feelings for you were unexpected and just because I omitted certain things from you doesn’t make what’s between us any less powerful.”

She held up her hand, flatly stating, “You’ve said this already. Multiple times now. Repetition doesn’t absolve what you did to me. No thanks — I’ve had my fill of liars lately. So, kindly jump ahead to the real reason you’re here, Klaus. And drop the pet names; you no longer have that privilege.”   

The cold steel in his gray eyes reflected his anger, and she could hear the wooden arms of the Adirondack chairs start to splinter as he flexed his fingers. His voice was controlled, though, and he spoke slowly, as though weighing his words carefully. “Very well. Caroline, when last we spoke, I didn’t have the opportunity to reveal more about Elijah’s imprisonment in the stone and why I sought your help.”

He licked his lips almost nervously as he continued, “While it is not my intention to force you to relive the unpleasantness of your transition, it’s relevant to what I wish to discuss. My brother was there the night Damon attacked you. Elijah found you on the ground, hovering between life and death. He fed you his blood, but unfortunately, before he could move you somewhere safe, our father found him. He tried to protect you, but Mikael snapped your neck, not realizing you would transition. Then, Mikael and his witches performed the spell that trapped Elijah within the Phoenix Stone. Several days later, the rest of my siblings and I confronted Mikael, but he was killed before he told us where he had hidden the stone.”

Caroline realized she had moved to the edge of her seat during Klaus’ story, and she was now leaning uncomfortably close toward him. She hastily moved back into the chair, regarding him skeptically. “How do you know Elijah tried to help me? Were you there too?”

Klaus sighed. “No, I was not. Decades later, a witch was able to perform a spell to recreate the events leading up to Elijah’s imprisonment. The vision showed me your attack, which is how I knew who was responsible. I learned that in addition to locating the Phoenix Stone, there was another rare ingredient needed to release my brother — blood from the last vampire he created.”

Heart beating wildly in her chest, Caroline immediately panicked at Klaus’ words. She leapt to her feet and in a shrill voice, she accused, “So you’re here to drain me then?! Whisk me away to a creepy ritual and slice me open?!” Blue eyes wild, she quickly scanned the horizon to see where Jenna and the children had gone, also listening inside the shelter so she could determine how many residents were inside that she needed to protect if Klaus decided to harm them in an effort to get to her.

“No!” His harsh shout could not mask the disgust in his tone or the horrified look on his face. “I would never...Caroline, I have no interest in harming you, I swear. The ritual only calls for a few drops of your blood — nothing more.”

She hated how her heart immediately slowed at his words, how she was soothed by the sincerity she heard. _Don’t fall for it! How many times do you have to be betrayed before you learn your lesson?_ “I don’t believe you,” she spat venomously. “You told me all sorts of pretty words to convince me to let you into my life, just so you could steal the stone and now my blood.” Her smile twisted into something bitter and dark. “You’d tell me anything to save your brother. Let’s not pretend otherwise.”

Fists clenched, Klaus rose from his chair, stalking toward her slowly. Despite his menacing appearance, Caroline stood her ground, raising her chin and glaring at him with a ferocity that the hybrid clearly couldn’t help but admire. “Believe of me what you will, Caroline. But please do not sentence my brother to lifetimes of unspeakable torment just because you hate me. Elijah is noble and does not deserve the darkness our father forced upon him; his reputation precedes him just as mine does. Ask around — you’ll soon learn that upon occasion, I am capable of speaking the truth.”

Klaus suddenly flashed away, leaving her alone on the back porch, trembling. Whether it was from fear or anger or something in between, Caroline could not say. What struck her the most wasn’t his words, but the feeling she read behind that intimidating gray gaze. He was afraid for his brother. She was confused — why didn’t he just force her to give him the stone and her blood? Surely, a creature of such age and power could easily take what he wanted? His clipped tone couldn’t mask the anxiety that he felt when he spoke of Elijah’s imprisonment. And yet...Klaus chose not to intimidate her. He did not seem to want her fearful, forced cooperation. She couldn’t begin to ponder what that meant for her.

She blinked rapidly, fighting back tears as she thought back to the way her stomach turned when he said ‘because you hate me’. However complicated her feelings were for Klaus at the moment, she didn’t honestly believe that hate was one of the emotions she felt. But she couldn’t think of that now. Shaking her head, she focused on the other pieces of the puzzle he had laid out before her. She was the last vampire within Elijah’s sireline. Her blood could help free him from the Phoenix Stone. Klaus swore that his brother deserved freedom from the stone’s torment and entreated her to find out for herself.

Frowning, she realized that she had all but cut herself off from the supernatural world. Other than Stefan, whom she had no interest in speaking to at the moment, she was fully entrenched within the human world. She rubbed her face in frustration, chuckling darkly when she pictured the look on poor, painfully human Matt’s face if she were to ask him to give a character reference for a psychotic, sociopathic hybrid’s imprisoned Original brother. Nope, she would keep her favorite human far, far away from this supernatural juggernaut.

Her blue eyes widened when she remembered Bonnie, her witch friend who worked at the courthouse and tipped her off to potential ‘donors’ for the shelter, was the only person she could trust right now. They weren’t particularly close — more acquaintances than anything —but she’d just have to hope that she could convince Bonnie to help her. Whether she knew of the Originals was another matter, but at least it was a start. Mind made up, she planned to pay Bonnie a visit as soon as she could finish up her duties at the shelter.

* * *

She somehow made it through the painful meeting with the contractor that Klaus had commissioned to build the game room addition. Through her own stubbornness, she managed to focus on the designer’s ideas and offer some of her own suggestions. She knew that despite her volatile feelings about Klaus’ betrayal, she couldn’t take away this wonderful surprise for the shelter. Waving good-bye to Jenna and a few of the residents, she left the shelter, steeling herself for what was sure to be an awkward meeting with Bonnie.

“I need a favor.” Caroline squeezed her eyes shut in embarrassment when she realized that her words tumbled out before her brain could catch up. Bonnie stood at her door, the look of surprise at seeing Caroline on her front porch temporarily rendering her speechless. “I mean,” Caroline explained anxiously, “I know we don’t know each other that well even though we’ve kinda bonded over the fact that there’s some scummy lawbreakers out there who should _definitely_ pay for their crimes and the system we’ve worked out together has been a good one but I don’t know who else to go to with this and you’re one of my few supernatural people but I realize you may not feel comfortable being labeled as _my people_ yet but I swear I was working on that and I totally want to earn the right to be thought of as one of your people but I’m on a bit of a deadline now and I couldn’t wait so sorry about that.”

Bonnie raised an eyebrow, clearly still trying to process the word salad Caroline had spewed haphazardly all over her welcome mat. “Um, I think I caught the part where you needed help of the supernatural variety, but the rest of the meaning fell apart for me with the talk of your people and my people and how we could be people together I guess,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement.

“It’s one of my numerous quirks you’ll get used to,” Caroline promised with a grin.

Bonnie silently considered Caroline for a moment before finally shuffling to the side as she said, “Come in, Caroline.”

With a bright smile, Caroline crossed the threshold of the friendly cottage painted a vivid blue. She knew Bonnie didn’t trust easily, and to invite her, a mere vampire acquaintance into her home, was a pleasant surprise. She followed Bonnie into the living room and sat down in a coral-colored armchair across from a small white brick fireplace. She smiled nervously when she realized Bonnie was waiting expectantly for her to explain her surprise visit. “So, as you know, I work at the college and my primary area of research is ancient civilizations. Somehow, through a series of randomly connected events, I have now learned that one of my research projects has thrown me into the pathway of the oldest family of vampires in civilization.”

Frowning, Bonnie clenched the arms of her chair, her nails digging into the fabric harshly. “Caroline, if you’ve been dealing with any Original other than Elijah, I advise you to get out now. That whole family is nothing but trouble,” she said vehemently.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Caroline answered, “So you do know them, then. Good — that makes this easier.”

“The Bennett line is occasionally called upon by Elijah to perform spells. He’s always treated us with dignity and his word is his bond. I’ve never had the pleasure of meeting him, but he saved my great-great-great-great grandmother, Emily, during the Civil War when superstitious townspeople tried to burn her alive.”

Caroline felt relief flood through her body at Bonnie’s words. “So then, he’s a good person...um...vampire that you would consider to be worth saving,” she asked hesitantly.

“Of course,” Bonnie replied in a surprised tone. “Has something happened to Elijah? His brother, Klaus, paid a visit to my cousin, Lucy, recently and did his usual ‘threaten-ambiguous inquiries-threaten’ routine without revealing anything about his true purpose for being here.” She snorted derisively, “I pity the clueless idiot who falls for _that_ dimpled viper.”

Caroline cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks color. “Um, yeah, that would probably um...suck for them...”

Bonnie stiffened at Caroline’s awkward tone. “Oh, crap. I didn’t mean...I’m sorry; my mouth runs away with me sometimes.”

Caroline laughed. “It’s okay. I have the same problem. And it’s not like Klaus and I are...anything. I mean, I thought we were maybe...something, but then this all happened and I found out that basically my whole life has been a lie until now and I’m mad, sad, and I guess...just processing what it all means,” she revealed with a heavy sigh.

“Do you want to tell me about it,” Bonnie asked, her beautiful green eyes warmly sympathetic.

Biting her lip, she slowly shook her head, her messy blonde waves temporarily obscuring her eyes that had started to water unexpectedly. “Not yet,” she whispered. Clearing her throat, she swiftly changed the subject. “To answer your earlier question, yes, something happened to Elijah more than a century ago. The Originals’ father, Mikael, imprisoned him in the Phoenix Stone and he’s been trapped inside ever since.”

She plowed ahead before Bonnie could interrupt. “Apparently, one of the ritual ingredients to free him is some blood from the last vampire he turned, which happens to be me. I came to you to find out if Elijah is worthy of saving. Since you’re telling me he is, I can’t in good conscience just leave him trapped in there knowing I could do something about it.”

Nodding to herself, Bonnie rose to her feet, walking toward a small built-in shelf to the side of the fireplace. With a flick of her wrist, a tall, sea-green glass bottle slid to the side, triggering a hidden latch that popped open a panel within the wall. She reached inside to pull out what appeared to be an old grimoire and resettled in her chair while rifling through the delicate parchment paper. At Caroline’s curious expression, she explained, “I assume that Klaus intended for my cousin Lucy to work the spell to free Elijah once he gathered all of the ritual ingredients. I’ll tell her that I want to help — that way I can protect you and ensure Elijah is rescued.” She winked at Caroline’s incredulous gaze, adding, “After all, apparently, you and I are _people_ now.”

Caroline surged forward too quickly for Bonnie’s human vision to detect and wrapped her in a giant hug. “Thank you! I mean, I’m sure your cousin is great at her job, but I feel so much better having someone there who I can trust.” At Bonnie’s surprised laughter, she let go, her heart feeling lighter as she realized that despite all of the upheaval and unexpected drama, she had managed to make a new friend. The women smiled at each other, and the first tremulous steps toward a bond of friendship began to form.

Clearing her throat, Caroline decided to return to the topic at hand. “Regarding the Phoenix Stone, I’ve done extensive research and while I have some basic understanding of the legends surrounding it, I don’t know how much help that will be in the practical matter of constructing a spell to release Elijah. I can tell you that supposedly the Anasazi’s important rituals took place during times of celestial events such as the solstices. According to folklore, the stone’s power can be triggered during those times. I’m unsure of whether it would be limited to just the solstices though, or if other celestial events would work.”

Bonnie pulled up her phone, tapping a few times until she informed her, “It looks like the next most-powerful celestial event before the summer solstice would be the penumbral lunar eclipse. It’s in a week, and between me and my cousin, we should be able to go through the family archives to figure out a workable ritual.”

Rubbing her hands together, Caroline said determinedly. “Okay, let’s do this. Now what else do we need,” she asked, reaching into her purse to pull out her tablet to start a list.

* * *

A few hours later, Caroline arrived back at her loft, energized by her productive meeting with Bonnie. However, as she started to insert her key, she frowned as she noticed that the front door was slightly ajar. Feeling her pulse race, she listened intently to see if the intruder was still inside. Hearing only silence, she carefully eased open the black walnut door and crossed the threshold.

She felt herself start to relax when she couldn’t smell the presence of anyone in her home. If she concentrated hard enough, she could still smell the lingering whiff of Stefan’s favorite orange peel-scented hair gel and the sensual bite of Klaus’ cologne, but she pushed those thoughts from her mind as quickly as they came to her.

She had just begun to allow herself to believe that she had merely forgotten to lock the door and it had swung open of its own accord, when she rounded the corner to her kitchen and saw it sitting there innocently on the island. Perched upon the silver-flecked granite was a single pink primrose.

 


	11. My Life is My Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have some more angst we need to wade through, but we’re getting closer to Elijah’s upcoming ritual!

Caroline had never considered flowers to be insidious, but the primrose unexpectedly sitting upon her granite island seemed to be silently watching her, its innocent pink petals shimmering maliciously in the soft white glow of her pendant lights. Thoughts reeling, she tried to calm her rapid heartbeat as she realized someone had been in her home...and left her a rose. Who would so blatantly disregard all social decorum and violate her space like this? She had just settled on the only possible culprit when an impatient knock on her open front door distracted her from her murderous thoughts.

Klaus stood uncertainly at the threshold, one arm still raised as he called out, “Caroline? Why is your door open? Is everything alright?”

She flashed in front of him with blue eyes blazing. “You!” Her venomous greeting took the hybrid by surprise and he eyed her warily. “What gives you the right to break into my home and leave behind a rose? Do you have _any_ idea how inherently creepy and weird that makes you, Klaus?”

Gray eyes turned to steel as he reached out to grasp her shoulders, studying her closely as though examining her body for injuries. “What do you mean? Did you see who it was?” He glanced around the room as though still hoping to catch the intruder.

She fought against her body’s instinctual response to want to melt into the familiar, comforting warmth of his touch. She absolutely _did not_ need a protector. She could save herself. She noticed that one of his hands seemed to be clutching a purple hyacinth. Eyebrow raised, she heaved a heavy sigh of resignation. “Since it appears you’ve come here with a flower of your own, I suppose this means you weren’t the weirdo stalker who left the flower in my kitchen earlier tonight?”

Klaus straightened, suddenly awkward as he glanced down at the flower he held in a death grip. Hesitantly, he held it out to her, seeming to breathe a sigh of relief when she gingerly touched the green stem. “Yes, well, I wanted to stop by and offer...it’s just that I saw it and thought of...well, it’s lovely and I wanted you to have it,” he finished gruffly, clearing his throat as he looked anywhere but at her.

Caroline fought down a small smile as she breathed in the delightful fragrance. Realizing she was stalling, she said, “Well, you might as well come in and see what all the fuss is about.” She led him into her kitchen, noticing the way his entire body tensed when he spied the pink flower sitting on her island. “Klaus, what is it?”

“What do you know of flower language, Caroline,” he asked, eyeing the flower suspiciously.

She shrugged, answering, “Floriography is a type of cryptological communication that has been a part of various European, Asian and Middle Eastern cultures for thousands of years. It became more prevalent in Victorian England, so my knowledge is not extensive. I can tell you more about which flowers and herbs were thought to have medicinal or magical properties in ancient cultures. Other than for nutrition, ancient societies did not derive special meaning from primroses.” She cocked her head to the side, noting the tense lines of his body. “Why? What does this flower mean to you?”

Picking up the primrose gingerly, Klaus seemed to relax slightly as he appeared to not detect any lingering presence of magic or harmful substances. With a look of disgust, he grasped it more firmly, striding purposefully toward her tall windows over the sink and leaned over to unlatch one before flinging the offensive flower outside. Wiping off his hands, he turned to her and said with an almost possessive growl, “A primrose signifies intense longing; that the giver cannot live without the recipient.” He stared at her with unreadable, dark eyes. “Whomever left the flower behind is sending you a message. They are no longer content to admire you from afar. They just tried to stake their claim.”

She shivered at the unsettling implication of his words. “That’s absurd. There’s no one in my life right now who’s even hinted at... _that_. I mean, besides you,” she stammered, hating the blush that colored her cheeks. Shaking her head, she noticed she was still holding the purple hyacinth he had given her. “Well, then, what does this mean,” she asked shaking the flower in his direction before moving toward an open shelf to pull down a square glass vase to fill with water.

Klaus quietly muttered, “It expresses sorrow over one’s actions and entreats forgiveness.”

“Oh,” she said softly, biting her lip and not quite meeting his eyes.

At the awkward silence between them, he shook his head, body tense once more as he asked, “Did you notice if anything was disturbed? Are any of your possessions missing?”

She wordlessly moved from room to room, the hybrid anxiously shadowing her as her sharp eyes tried to detect any hint of items out of place or stolen. The thought of a stranger in her home, touching her things sent a shiver down her spine and made her want to vomit. It felt like such an _invasion_ and she wanted nothing more than to go back to sitting in Bonnie’s living room, ignorant of whomever had decided to intrude upon her life.

She hesitated at the doorway to her bedroom, glancing over her shoulder at Klaus as she said, “I don’t own anything particularly valuable. Just sentimental stuff, mostly.” Her breath caught as she thought of something and flashed over to her maple jewelry box sitting in the middle of her antique highboy dresser. Pulse racing, she flipped open the lid and let out a moan of despair when she realized her bracelet was missing.

“No!” she whirled around to find Klaus’ concerned face inches from her own. “The silver bracelet my father gave me before he went off to war is gone! I don’t wear it often, but I always keep it right here. Why would someone take it,” she cried, hating how she was on the verge of tears. Before she realized what was happening, Klaus had pulled her into his chest, making soothing, reassuring noises as he held her tightly.

When Caroline finally came back to herself, she carefully stepped away, needing to put some distance between herself and the confusing man before her. She walked down the hall to continue her sweep of the loft, her thoughts racing. She tried to keep her voice from trembling as she asked again, “Why did someone take my bracelet? There’s something bigger going on here than a possible infatuation with me, right?”

“Perhaps,” he answered cautiously. “Numerous spells require a personal object.” He squeezed her hand, startling her as she realized she hadn’t let go of his hand since he had comforted her in her bedroom. “I won’t let anything happen to you, Caroline. You have my word,” he vowed, the angry blade of his voice bleeding into his promise.

Before she could begin to contemplate how that made her feel, she noticed a stack of research books and files had been disturbed in her study. Flashing into the room, she carefully flipped through her notes and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her laptop was still there. She quickly turned it on, smiling briefly when she realized all of her electronic files appeared to be intact. While it was possible the intruder could have copied her files, she tried to focus on the fact that she hadn’t lost years of research in one night.

She calmly turned to Klaus, gesturing toward the stacks of books and notes. “It looks like the thief has an interest in the Phoenix Stone. Perhaps it’s an admirer of yours? Have you told anyone lately you’re just not that into them?”

Lips twitching, Klaus joined her in stacking her files more neatly, finally sitting down on the leather couch beside her while they considered the evidence before them. She possibly had a creepy stalker who also was interested in her Phoenix Stone research. She couldn’t begin to contemplate who might be behind the break in, and hoped that it was someone from Klaus’ likely endless list of enemies. Rationally, though, she couldn’t rule out the possibility that perhaps she didn’t know the people in her life as well as she had once hoped.

“I’ll have one of my witches make you a protection charm and place some powerful warding magic on your home,” he said, pulling out his phone to begin texting. “She’s local, so I can get her over here right away,” he added, the concern in his voice making Caroline’s heart flutter.

“Not necessary. I assume you’re talking about Lucy Bennett? I’m friends with her cousin, Bonnie, who is a capable witch herself. I’ll call Bonnie in a bit and I’m sure she can put something together for me,” Caroline explained, hating that she would need to ask a favor so early in her new friendship. Saying Bonnie’s name reminded her of her earlier meeting and added, “Speaking of Bonnie, I stopped by her place earlier and told her about this mess with the Phoenix Stone and your brother.” Klaus’ gray eyes widened and he seemed to be holding his breath as she continued. “Apparently, Elijah has quite the fan base among the Bennett witches and she insists upon helping Lucy perform the ritual to free him from the stone.”

He seemed to relax against the couch, leaning into her as he looked at her gratefully. “You’ve decided my brother is worth saving, then?” At her small nod and tremulous smile, he grabbed both of her hands, kissing the knuckles in reverence. “Thank you, Caroline. You have no idea what this means to me and my family.”

Caroline tried not to think about the way his sweet gesture reminded her of their last kiss against the brick building. It was all fire and passion and she had been overwhelmed by the flavors and scents of the man before her. _And then Rebekah arrived, and her world came tumbling down_. Frowning, she sat up straighter, yanking her hands out of Klaus’ grasp. In a prim voice, she said, “Bonnie and Lucy are gathering ingredients and feel they’ll be ready to perform the ritual in about a week’s time during the penumbral lunar eclipse. So, I’ll be in touch once Bonnie tells me everything is ready.”

She stood up, intent to shepherd him out the door when he stopped her by placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. Staring down at her, his face was a mixture of emotions she couldn’t quite discern. “Caroline, I realize you’re angry with me and I had every intention of giving you the time and space needed to properly sort through things, but unfortunately that is no longer an option. Someone is clearly after you and possibly the stone, and I’ll not be letting you out of my sight,” Klaus said firmly.

“What?!” Caroline was absolutely livid. “What gives you the right to think you can just dictate my life like this?” She pointed a finger at him, her black veins prominently displayed in her anger as she hissed, “My life is my own and I don’t need you to take care of me, damn it!”

His eyes briefly flared gold at her shrill tone. “Think of it this way, Caroline. Either you let me protect you while you live your life or I’ll abscond with you now and you won’t see the light of day until I have eliminated this unknown threat.”

She laughed bitterly at his harsh words. “Wow — I really dodged a bullet with you, huh? I realized you had your issues, but _delusional, sociopathic stalker_ is definitely on my dating _don’ts_ list.” She refused to back down at his indignant growl. “I’ll agree to your insane terms of being my guard dog — but _only_ until we save Elijah next week. After that — we go our separate ways. I don’t hear from you or your family _ever_ again. Whoever broke into my loft is _my_ problem to deal with — not yours. Deal?”

Something flashed behind the steel of his gaze, and at first, she thought it was regret or sadness, but it happened so quickly she decided she had imagined it. His usual cocky demeanor returned, but this time, there was a coldness about him that made her heart clench. “Very well.” He turned to leave, surprising her.

“Where are you going,” she asked in confusion as he reached the front door.

Not bothering to look at her, he replied flatly, “I can act as your _guard dog_ from a reasonable distance. I have no interest in being any closer to you than necessary, Caroline.” He shut her front door loudly behind him as he left, the black walnut groaning in protest under his furious touch.

Caroline hated how empty her loft felt after Klaus stormed out, although he was lurking somewhere in the shadows _at a distance_ , as he said. Their heated conversation played on a continuous loop in her mind as she settled in for the night, and she couldn’t help but wallow in the heavy regret that seemed to have settled in her heart. What she had said to Klaus about severing all ties as soon as the ritual was complete was what she wanted...possibly.

She had been furious with him at having the audacity to tower over her in her own home and deliver ultimatums. She was not an object to be locked away. _She was not weak_. She was an intelligent, capable vampire and had gotten this far in life without his help — why start now? So, she had reacted terribly to his words, her carefully constructed walls settling back into place as she became defensive.

Sighing, she sat back down on the leather couch, rubbing her forehead tiredly as she tried not to think about how she noticed every time he used her name now instead of his signature pet names for her. It was something she had told him to do back at the shelter; so why did it bother her so much that he had actually listened to her for once?

* * *

The next day, she arranged to head into work late so that Bonnie could stop by to apply some powerful warding spells to her home and she cast a protection spell that she swore would keep Caroline safe. Feeling slightly better about things, she walked across campus to Petrova Hall and slumped into her office chair. She couldn’t get used to the tingling of her skin, telling her that Klaus was out there somewhere keeping tabs on her. She rationalized that it was for her safety, but it also left her angry and miserable. She knew at some point, she needed to talk to the moody hybrid, but she still hadn’t figured out what to say.     

A knock at her office door distracted her from her moping and she looked up with a smile when she saw Matt come in with his worn olive green backpack and two textbooks filled with sticky notes. “Sorry I’m late, Caroline; Professor Lockwood kept me after class to discuss joining his think tank group.”

She snorted, asking lightly, “Oh, you mean Tyler’s herpes meeting?”

Matt laughed, shaking his head at his mentor. “You know it’s called _HERP: Historians Elevating Research Program_.”    

“Whatever, Matty. Just use protection if you attend a meeting.” She smiled at her Ph.D. student, but also made a mental note to discuss with Tyler that she was aware he was trying to recruit Matt for his group. Despite the unfortunate name, the program sounded like an excellent opportunity for ambitious students to perform research and possibly help write articles that would eventually be published in peer-reviewed journals on a national and international platform. However, Caroline couldn’t help but notice that ever since Tyler began the program, he had been publishing a considerable number of journal articles and it was rare that a co-author or research credit was given to a student from his group. She needed to emphasize to Tyler that Matt was off-limits when it came to exploiting naive college students for free labor.

He pulled out a battered laptop, carefully setting it on the edge of Caroline’s desk. “I’m just enjoying Professor Lockwood’s flattery until I become an adjunct professor and he starts treating me like _I’m_ the one with herpes.”

Delighted, Caroline snorted again, covertly glancing out her open door to make sure no one heard them badmouthing her colleague. “It’s true he views adjuncts as the peasant class. He actually tried to convince Alaric not to let them park in our lounge because it would _send the wrong message about their status_.”

Chuckling in exasperation, he settled into one of her blue armchairs and pulled up his files on his computer. “So, based on the information you provided on the Phoenix Stone, I did some digging in our archives and learned that typically the Anasazi carved hunting scenes including zoomorphs, or animals, and anthromorphs, or people. The data on potential clan symbols and narrowing down locations where certain offshoots of tribes may have lived is pretty much guesswork at this point, though.”

Caroline tried to keep her tone even as she asked, “Did you come across any sort of connection between the Anasazi and astronomy?”

His blue eyes lit up excitedly as he sent her links to a few obscure references he found. “Yes! You were right — there’s several theories about the importance the tribe placed on celestial events. In fact, I compared several carvings attributed to the Anasazi that we found on the Phoenix Stone that imply a solstice calendar of sorts. They definitely seemed to weave astronomy into their religious beliefs. I’m guessing celestial events were a big part of their rituals too.”

She nodded at his words, but was distracted when she thought of the upcoming ritual less than a week away. _Would it really work? What would happen afterward? Did she really want Klaus to leave?_ She realized Matt had asked her a question and she sat up straighter in her chair, clearing her throat. “Sorry, Matty. What was that?”

“I asked if you wanted me to research any of the folklore surrounding the tribe. You know, their deities, monsters, all that stuff,” he repeated, his forehead wrinkling slightly at her distracted state.

She hesitated at his question. She had promised herself to keep her favorite human away from any dangers associated with the Phoenix Stone project. Perhaps she should discourage him from delving too far into the mythology just in case. Shrugging, she attempted to sound nonchalant as she explained, “As you know, very little information exists about the Anasazi’s beliefs. Much of what we understand is founded on pure speculation, so it’s not really worth following up on for now. We know that there are several shared myths among the southwestern tribes, including that of the Yenaldooshi, or skin-walkers.”

“I didn’t know the skin-walkers folklore stretched that far across the country. Has anyone done research on how the existence of similar myths could indicate important trade routes,” he asked eagerly.

She smiled at his enthusiasm. “Some research has been done, but not enough in my opinion.” She could see how his face lit up as he began hurriedly typing notes on his laptop. She didn’t have the heart to dampen his enthusiasm. Besides, she reasoned, surely whatever research he found would have little bearing on the upcoming ritual. _She would be able to keep him safe_.

She continued, “Maybe this line of inquiry could turn into a chapter in your thesis? I’m not familiar with the various incarnations of the skin-walkers mythology, but I can tell you that the Yenaldooshi of southwestern tribal folklore were said to be evil witches who gained their power by killing a close relative. They supposedly could shift into coyotes at night, preying on unsuspecting humans who wandered too far away from the fires.”

“Cool,” he murmured, pausing from his typing to ask, “Was there a way to kill them?”

Caroline thought back to what she had researched over the years and explained, “Depending upon the tribe, the religious authority figure would be a shaman, priest or medicine person and they would work with the village elders to protect the village. You may want to cross-reference ‘kivas’ in your research as they were the underground rooms where Anasazi priests would practice their rituals.”

She stood up, walking over to a tall bookcase by her window and pulled down a couple of books, handing them to Matt. “Here, start looking through Haas and Stuart’s work. I’ve generally found them to be informative authorities on southwestern tribes, particularly the Anasazi.” She returned to her desk, accessing her records until she found the last batch of journal articles she had examined. “Also, the library’s server has an interesting native American mythology section that discusses skin-walkers. It delves into the psychology behind the myths and how revealing the monster’s true identity will defeat them.”

Matt added her anecdotal information to his data files, commenting, “That makes sense, I guess. Most ancient civilizations seemed obsessed with names. Names had power.” He started packing up his notes and laptop, a wistfulness in his boyish voice as he said, “How cool would it be if all these myths were real? I like the idea of the world being bigger than we know. That there’s _more_ out there.”

Caroline laughed, her voice slightly high-pitched as she told him, “Believe me, Matty. The world is plenty big and you’ll get to explore all of it one day.”

He smiled at her emphatic tone, and then glanced down at his watch, making an irritated noise. “Crap, April’s gonna wonder where I am. We’re heading to her mom’s for dinner tonight,” he explained, a soft smile on his sweet face when he spoke of his girlfriend.

“Then get out here,” she said with a grin, shooing him out of her office. After he left, she sighed as she slumped back in her chair. Young love was always so full of promise and giddy anticipation. She hoped the world wouldn’t step on Matt too much as he went through life. She had come to think of him as a little brother and it would break her heart to see him became jaded and bitter.

A knock at her doorframe alerted her to another visitor and when she glanced up, she was dismayed to see who it was. Glaring, she said icily, “Stefan.”

 

 


	12. They Deserved Better. Everyone Did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mentions of violence. Also, a bit of smut later on.

            Life is made up of a series of interconnected moments. Often, they’re random, meaningless bits of time carved into the infinite landscape of existence. When Caroline saw Stefan standing at her office door, the burning, visceral rage she immediately felt threatened to consume her entire being. And then she spied the familiar pink and black to-go cup from the tea shop downtown and nearly wept at the memories that suddenly flooded her mind.

            A few years ago, she had been on a dig in Somalia, exploring the incredible caves of Laas Gaal that contained rock art dating back to approximately 9,000 BC. The fantastically detailed painting depicted individuals clothed in elaborate ceremonial robes and possibly a religious element that involved the deification of certain domesticated animals such as cattle. She had excitedly started drawing parallels between this ancient, unknown culture and that of other cultures that featured similar beliefs such as ancient Egypt, Greece, Rome, Israel and Germany. The possibilities were staggering and could potentially mean a new hypothesis concerning migratory patterns of ancient peoples. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to fully explore the site because a series of violent attacks had broken out and she was concerned for the safety of her grad students and the local workers.

            Driving along the dry riverbed-lined trail in off-road vehicles a few miles outside of the nearest city, the group came across a horrific sight. A small village had recently been looted and burned to the ground. They found a pile of corpses that had been mass-executed, likely by one of the numerous militia factions that roamed the area. Caroline had comforted her team as best she could, shaken to the core and feeling helpless.

            Once she had gotten everyone settled into the small, rundown hotel just outside of the capital of Hargeisa, she compelled a flight first thing in the morning. Then, she had silently slipped out into the night, flashing back to that desolate place of such horrific violence. As she walked through the charred remains of modest homes, she occasionally wiped off her damp cheeks, but otherwise remained silent. It somehow felt disrespectful to make a sound in this place where the earth seemed to endlessly scream. Taking a breath, she began the arduous task of digging a grave for each poor soul who had been taken too soon. She didn’t care if the authorities would be angry at her disturbing the crime scene — she had seen enough of the government’s “authority” in that country to know that it was entirely possible that its leaders had even ordered this despicable violence. She would not allow these victims to rot out in the open. They deserved better. Everyone did.

            By the end of the night, she had buried the victims with honor, standing over each grave as she said a small prayer to a higher power she didn’t know if she believed in. What she did know was that her tears of sorrow had mingled with the unforgiving earth, the salt and bitterness leaving her feeling cold and empty. In that moment, she wondered if that was what it truly meant to be a vampire. When she had stumbled back to her hotel room, filthy and exhausted by the weight of her despair, she had called the one constant in her life — Stefan.

            He had immediately answered and together, they talked through what had happened and how she could begin processing the horror she had witnessed. He had been her rock, her lifeline and she counted herself incredibly fortunate to have him in her life. When she returned home, Stefan was waiting for her at the airport with the familiar pink and black to-go cup from the tea shop downtown and she knew it would contain her favorite cinnamon-vanilla chai tea with ghost pepper sea salt because she always told him that drinking it was like a warm hug from the inside out accompanied by a well-intentioned bitch slap to get her feeling like herself again.

            And now Stefan was greeting her with the same drink again. The bastard. He held it up slightly, as though it was a mystical talisman imbued with magic potent enough to obscure her memories of his devastating betrayal. Snarling, she moved to slam the door in his face only to have him flash inside, shutting the door firmly behind him. “Caroline,” he began in his trademark soothing voice, “I —”

            She quickly cut him off, knocking the drink from his hand and feeling a sliver of satisfaction as she watched the hot tea liberally coat the wall behind him. “You clearly didn’t get my message — when I don’t call, or message, or come by to see you, that means I don’t want to talk to you. _Ever_!”

            The pain on his handsome face normally would have felt like a knife in her chest, but seeing him so upset gave her a small measure of satisfaction. Stefan was miserable? _Good._ He deserved it.

            He sighed, rubbing the side of his face tiredly. “I know what I did isn’t something you’re ready to talk about, or even begin to forgive, but I —”

            She shook her head angrily, interrupting him once more as she shrieked, “What you did to me?! You mean when you allowed Damon to attack me and you both left me for dead in that alley?! That wasn’t even the worst of your crimes against me!” Her blue eyes narrowed as she accused him in a tone full of venom, “You pretended to be my friend for a century. _A century_. You didn’t _earn_ my friendship. You _stole_ it, Stefan.”

            “I know,” he said quietly, his voice hoarse with unshed tears. “What I kept from you is something that ate away at me. At my soul. And I know that sorry isn’t ever going to be good enough.”

            She crossed her arms protectively in front of her, staring at the silver shag rug between them rather than look at her former best friend. “Were you ever going to tell me,” she asked in a small, broken voice that nearly shattered the space between them.

            Stefan grimaced, resting his palms on the mahogany desk between them as he stared at her intently. “I wanted to. I told myself every day of our friendship that I couldn’t wait any longer. That you deserved the truth. We both did. But I was selfish, Caroline. The friendship you freely gave made me a better man. I’m better for having known you and I was just selfish enough not to want to give that up.”

            “Selfish? That doesn’t _begin_ to describe what you are, Stefan.” She scoffed, hating how her tears kept threatening to fall. “Why are you here? What do you want from me?” As he opened his mouth to answer, she pointed her finger at him and said harshly, “And don’t you _dare_ tell me it’s to ask for my forgiveness!”

            Stefan shook his head, his brown eyes full of worry. “I heard about the break-in at your loft. That someone left behind a flower and they took the bracelet your father gave you.” At her snort of disbelief, his temper quickly flared and he said loudly, “This is deep shit, Caroline! If that flower and your bracelet are somehow connected, do you have any idea the danger you could be in? A primrose can mean several things, but the intention is the same for all of it — it’s complete, mindless devotion. And the theft of your bracelet — something that holds intense personal value to you — could be used in any number of terrifying ways against you!”

            Caroline shook her head, muttering to herself, “Seriously, am I the _only_ one who didn’t bother learning about Victorian flower language? When did it become a life hack?” Seeing Stefan’s almost smile at her joke made her want to revel in it, to dive right into that moment and live there because it felt like maybe someday they could move past the lies between them. _But not today_. The wound was still fresh and she was still furious. He needed to leave. _Now_. “You don’t get to play protector for me, Stefan. Not anymore. Get out.”

            “Caroline,” he implored, clearly trying to make her see reason. “You need someone to watch out for you, especially now that you’re a target of whoever or whatever is stalking you. Please let me help.”

            “No! I don’t need your help, Stefan. I can take care of myself and if it turns out I can’t, you’re the _last_ person I would trust! Now leave!” Her voice had become so shrill it could’ve etched glass, and Stefan was clearly taken aback by the determination in her tone.

            Stefan started to protest, but Klaus suddenly flashed through the door, hauling him off of the floor by his neck. “You heard the lady, mate. I suggest you listen to her,” he said with furious golden eyes and gnashing teeth.

            Startled by Klaus’ unexpected arrival, she had momentarily forgotten about her obstinate security detail. Arching an eyebrow, she jerked her chin toward the door and told Stefan, “As you can see, I don’t need your help. Now go.”

            Klaus released Stefan, stepping back to allow the broken vampire to leave Caroline’s office, his shoulders slumped as he trudged past dejectedly with one last heartbroken glance at her. The moment Stefan closed her door, she tried to maintain her composure, keeping her fists clenched as though she could hold onto that rage that coursed through her and fueled the confrontation with Stefan. Instead, the damn burst forth, her emotions poured out and she couldn’t help the strangled cry that escaped her lips when she thought of how deeply Stefan’s lies had hurt her.

            Before she realized it, Klaus had swept her into his arms, hugging her to his body as they leaned against her writing desk. The reassuring pressure of his powerful body was soothing and she felt warm and above all, protected as she relaxed into his embrace. He placed the gentlest of kisses on top of her blond curls, softly reassuring her, “Everything will be alright, sweetheart. I will not let you come to harm.”

            Caroline hiccupped, pulling away from him slightly to gaze up at him with teary eyes. “You called me ‘sweetheart’. You haven’t called me any of your silly pet names since you came to the shelter to finish telling me...everything,” she said haltingly.

            Klaus’ strong jaw twitched as though pained by her tears. “You told me not to, as I recall. I was merely respecting your wishes.” He gazed down at her, the gold receding as he asked, “Do you no longer mind?”

            Embarrassed by the intensity of his stare, she tucked a few blonde curls behind one ear as she suddenly found her lilac ballet flats fascinating. She mumbled, “It’s um...nice, I guess. So...maybe it would be okay.”

            “Very well then, _love_ ,” he addressed her with a knowing smile, gently brushing at a stray tear that had run down her chin. “I’ll take my leave so you can get back to work.”

            “Wait!” The urgency in her voice surprised them both, and she could feel her cheeks heating up as she hastily explained, “It’s just...I wanted to say ‘thank you’ for the purple hyacinth yesterday. It was beautiful.”

            Klaus faltered at her words, clearly unsure of how to respond given the intensity of their argument yesterday. They stood awkwardly by her desk, neither knowing how to proceed in this unfamiliar territory they found themselves in.

            She finally sighed and said, “It wasn’t fair what I said to you yesterday. I don’t like feeling helpless and I’m used to taking care of myself. I don’t like asking for help,” she explained stiffly.

            His gray eyes widened with her confession and he stepped closer to her, seemingly weighing his words carefully. “My actions, my words, it’s how I’ve always been. For the longest time, I didn’t know how to be anything else. But I don’t want your fear. I _never_ want that,” he swore, picking up her hand and outlining her palm with one finger.

            Caroline shivered at the implications of his speech. Nodding slowly, she whispered, “Okay.”

            Obviously elated by her single uttered word, Klaus prodded her further, “What about what you said regarding when the ritual is over and Elijah is free? You asked me to leave. Do you still want that, sweetheart?”

            She felt her heart clench at the hurt she could hear in his tone. “I don’t know anymore, Klaus,” she answered honestly, a slight catch in her voice. “Let’s just focus on learning about the ritual and gathering the ingredients for Bonnie. We’ll figure out the rest when the time comes.”

            He nodded, his shoulders relaxing slightly as a tentative peace settled between them. “I will continue to protect you, love. Whomever broke into your home is likely not going to stop. I intend to be there they next time they try to cause you harm,” he vowed, a dangerous edge to his voice that awoke something hot and primal inside of her.

            Caroline cleared her throat, trying to get a handle on the raw emotions that had her skin tingling in the most inconvenient manner. “Right, well, until they make another move, we just need to keep watch and focus on things we _can_ control — like research,” she said brightly, gesturing for him to take a seat in one of her comfortable blue armchairs.

            Smiling indulgently at her enthusiasm, he folded his long frame into a chair, idly grabbing one of the books stacked on the edge of her desk. Glancing at the spine, he said, “This appears to be a history of Mystic Falls. I assume we need to determine the best location for the ritual then?”

            “Yes,” Caroline answered decisively. “The more violent the event, the more energy Bonnie and Lucy can channel for the ritual to free your brother.” She settled behind her mahogany desk and opened her laptop. “Also, I’ve been looking into medicine wheels. Indigenous North American cultures used them as sacred symbols of their faith and they were at the heart of many important religious ceremonies. I think that Bonnie and Lucy should consider using a modified version in their ritual,” she explained, turning her screen around to show him several reconstructed sacred circles of the Native American symbol.

            Klaus studied the diagram carefully, commenting, “It reminds me a bit of a Vegvisir, a type of compass my people used for navigation.” He moved to the edge of the blue armchair, his index finger hovering over her screen as he traced the intricate pattern in the air. “The interlocking symbols are obviously more compressed in Norsemen artifacts, but you can surmise the same arches are employed.”

            Caroline angled her neck to get a better view of the image and easily could envision the patterns Klaus described. Excitedly she added, “Experts had theorized that the Vegvisir was a Viking rune stave, a magical device Norsemen used to inscribe on their seagoing vessels to ward off rough seas and insure safe passage. I’ve only seen two that were somewhat intact,” she confessed, her blue eyes bright as she recalled the excitement she felt on that dig in Haukeli, Norway, when her team stumbled upon perfectly preserved Viking burial mounds in the mountains. Her eyes widened as she asked in a hushed whisper, “Do you still have...keepsakes from that time?”

            Amused, Klaus shook his curly head, his dirty blonde locks glinting almost golden as the sun’s rays filtered in through her office window. “Unfortunately not. It was a turbulent time as you know, and once me and my siblings were turned, it became crucial that everything we own be light and portable as we fled from Mikael.” As though sensing her disappointment, he pushed aside the laptop and whispered, “However, the most common depiction of the Vegvisir rune comes from the 17th century Icelandic grimoire, _Galdrabók._ ” His dimples deepened as he grinned. “And I happen to have the original copy in my possession, love.”

            Caroline gasped, moving further across her desk as she asked, “You have one of the most famous grimoires in existence that blends traditional Icelandic folk magic with mythology and Christian overtones?” She was conscious of how close she had moved toward Klaus during their discussion of medicine wheels and runic artifacts. She suddenly felt incredibly warm in her stuffy office. She had never considered the seductive power of ancient Native American and Viking symbols, but she couldn’t deny their appeal as she noticed the way Klaus’ navy henley seemed to bring out the blue flecks in his steel gaze.

            “Yes,” he said, favoring her with a wicked smile while adding, “and I would be delighted to have you authenticate it for me.” He rubbed his thumb over her wrist, teasing her pulse point with delicious little circles.

            She couldn’t decide if it was the aggravatingly sexy hybrid’s close proximity or the added appeal of getting to examine such a historical manuscript that was causing her hormones to go into overdrive, but suddenly Caroline’s tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip and she shivered when she noticed how Klaus’ eyes darkened at the action. Without further delay, she had grabbed Klaus’ well-defined jawline in both hands and pressed her lips to his in a furious bout of passion that had them knocking over piles of books from her desk as they playfully wrestled for dominance.

            As she wrapped a calf around the curve of his hip, she managed to lose one lilac ballet flat and quickly kicked off the other, groaning as she felt the roughness of Klaus’ stubble scratch delightfully against her ivory neck. She relished his gasp of surprise as she moved her nails underneath his shirt, teasing his back muscles with light scratches.

            He ran one hand appreciatively along her bare leg, slowly moving up the soft cotton of her wrap skirt. He inhaled sharply, grinding his hips against hers to create a pleasant friction. He growled, “Your scent is driving me mad, sweetheart. Every time we’re together it’s a bloody struggle to refrain from teasing you until you beg.”

            His sexy accent and the blatant invitation of his words nearly sent her over the edge. Biting her lower lip she challenged, “Big talk, hybrid. Let’s see some action.”

            Klaus’ gray eyes glowed yellow at her dare and he rasped, “Oh love, you have no idea what you started,” and quickly yanked her thighs apart, running his nose along the delicate lines of her panties as he savored her delectable scent. He took his time tracing his fingers along the tiny polka dotted fabric, clearly amused by the girlish pattern. At her huff of annoyance, his dimples came out to play, enjoying her frustration. She had started to sensually move her pelvis, chasing his maddening touch when he finally brushed his tongue against the damp cotton, pressing down teasingly upon her sensitive flesh.  

            Caroline couldn’t help the breathless sigh that escaped from her lips as she arched her back several inches from her mahogany desk. She reached down to grip his curls, pulling his warm mouth onto her throbbing center.

            With a muffled growl, he shoved her thin panties to the side and began to attack her quivering folds with eager licks and nipping fangs, sending bolts of electricity down her spine and causing her to bite her lip to hold back a scream. As though sensing her stubbornness, he panted against her parted thighs, “Ready to beg yet, love?”

            Just as she started to open her mouth to argue, the dimpled devil ducked his head down and sucked her aching clit between his lips, creating just the right amount of friction to send her tumbling over the edge as she rode her orgasm through its pulsing, ecstatic completion. She slumped against her desk, glancing down at the sexy hybrid between her thighs. “I told you I didn’t beg,” she bragged, her breath ragged.

            “I accept that challenge, sweetheart,” Klaus replied with a smirk, but then they both stiffened as they heard the unmistakable sounds of footsteps heading down the corridor toward Caroline’s office.

            They quickly jumped off of the desk, straightening their rumpled clothes and hair while zipping around the room gathering up piles of books and papers and somewhat returning the stacks to their former organized appearance. They each moved back into their chairs, adopting ridiculous twin expressions of nonchalance as Caroline loudly began lecturing about the first academic topic that came to mind. “As you know, the stone structures of the Native American medicine wheels were constructed in a pattern on the ground that paid homage to the four directions. The center stone generally had smaller rocks radiating from the center. Considered sacred hoops, they are thought to have been used for religious, healing and teaching rituals.”

            She barely managed to keep the laughter from her voice as she spied Klaus’ incredulous look. Fortunately, the knock on her office door interrupted her pseudo-lecture.

            Alaric, her department head, opened the door and asked, “Caroline? Are we still on for lunch? I was hoping to discuss the proposal you emailed concerning your first presentation with Professor Mikaelson.” He smiled when he noticed Klaus and asked, “I’m pleased to see you here as well, Professor. Are you two hard at work?”

            Based on the mischievous twinkle in his gray eyes, whatever Klaus was about to say would likely need to be compelled away from Alaric’s memory, so Caroline hastily answered, “Yes! Hard! At work, I mean...” She could feel her cheeks grow rosy, but she plunged ahead, actively avoiding Klaus’ teasing glances. “Klaus and I spent a lot of time putting together that proposal regarding our lecture series on the Sun and Moon Curse hoax.”

            Alaric nodded absentmindedly as he checked his watch. “Excellent. Professor Mikaelson, perhaps you’d care to join us for lunch then to go over the highlights?”

            Klaus grinned lazily and answered in a perfectly innocent tone, “I appreciate the offer, but I just ate a quick bite. I expect to have a full meal later on though.”

 


	13. What Devilry Have You Gotten Up To

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some delicious smut after last chapter’s little tease!

            “Is it just me or does Alaric seem to fancy that Tyler bloke a bit, love,” Klaus asked Caroline with a cheeky grin when she returned to her office after an exhausting lunch with Alaric.

            Throwing her red satchel on the edge of her mahogany desk, she rolled her eyes at the smug hybrid. “Of course you were lurking in the shadows like a serial killer during my meeting.”

            Klaus immediately launched himself out of a blue armchair, sweeping her into his arms protectively. “Someone is targeting you, sweetheart. They broke into your loft, stole your bracelet and left behind a flower full of dubious meaning. Your safety is my highest priority.”

            She could feel herself start to melt at his protective tone and breathed in his comforting smells of cedar with a bite of citrus. She began to warm at the prospect of Klaus rubbing his masculine scent into her sheets. Slightly embarrassed by her inappropriate thoughts at work, not to mention their passionate display in her office earlier, she blushed, pushing away from him gently. “I appreciate you taking your guard dog responsibilities so seriously, but you must have been ridiculously bored listening to Alaric ramble on about how Tyler is continuing the proud Lockwood academic legacy.”

            He chuckled, “I was especially delighted with his rendition of Tyler’s latest draft of a scholarly submission concerning the ancient Egyptian city, Hamunaptra. He seemed to be able to quote large portions of the text. Bit obsessive of the rather unremarkable lad, if you ask me.”

            Caroline leaned comfortably against him, unable to hide the way her blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “Right. Tyler’s fascinating, no doubt _well-researched_ work on that _Egyptian_ city will be talked about for a long time in academic circles,” she giggled.  

            Smirking down at her he asked, “What devilry have you gotten up to, you little minx?”

            Rolling her eyes, she explained, “Tyler has a nasty habit of stealing other people’s research and publishing it as his own. He also recruits top college students to do research and then publishes their findings without giving them proper credit. I found out that he tried recruiting Matty and I refuse to allow my brilliant, innocent protégé to be used like that. Since I know that Tyler likes trolling the university’s shared drive and _borrowing_ research to publish as his own, I _may_ have uploaded some imaginative discovery summaries that aren’t entirely accurate.”

            Klaus laughed, “How much was inaccurate?”

            Smiling widely, she smugly answered, “All of it. Hamunaptra is an ancient _Indian_ city that was discovered when British engineers were excavating land to build a railroad.” She snorted, “Serves him right for not checking out some of my obvious resources that I cited like Dr. Rick O’Connell and Imhotep Th’ Mümì.”  

            His lips curled into a knowing grin. “Imhotep, _The Mummy_? How I admire your biting wit, sweetheart.” He leaned down to press his lips to hers, his kiss deliciously slow as his hands smoothly slid over her shoulders and down her back to pull her close.

            All of her misgivings about maintaining a professional demeanor at work were abandoned as she sank into the warmth of his powerful body. Her fingers traced the outlines of his muscular forearms, relishing in the feel of his skin trembling under her tentative exploration. She slipped her hands underneath the soft fabric of his navy henley, playfully scratching at his skin as she had done earlier.

            Her actions pulled a low growl from him as he quickly tugged her ruffled blouse over her blonde curls. He hungrily attacked the curve of her shoulder, teasing the tips of his fangs across her sensitive skin. At her shudder, he smoothly pressed down, spilling a few drops of her blood as she couldn’t stop the lusty moan that escaped her lips. With a devilish smirk against her flesh, he followed a small rivulet of blood down her throat, his tongue lingering between her bare breasts.

            “Klaus,” she hummed, arching her back as she pressed more firmly against him. Taking the hint, his lips eagerly wrapped around a hardened nipple, causing her to gasp as he began playfully nipping at the throbbing peak. He maneuvered them both toward an armchair, sinking down into it as he pulled her onto his lap.

            Caroline rocked her hips against him, the motion becoming more forceful as he teased her with his clever tongue. The blue chair gave a creak of protest under her enthusiastic rutting, but she paid it no heed as she started to feel the hard line of his erection underneath her. Suddenly, the chair tipped back, falling to the floor with a thud that temporarily jarred the couple before they continued their eager explorations.

            With an impatient snarl, Klaus ripped off her simple cotton panties, then hoisted her up his muscular body until her center was perfectly perched above his lips. “Ride me,” he rasped, his sexy, guttural command leaving her breathless.

            She bunched her wrap skirt around her waist, not wanting to miss a moment of his decadent ministrations. Her greedy stare basked in the heat of his gaze as he angled his head to plunge into her. She stiffened at the sinful curl of his tongue, groaning as he licked over her sensitive flesh. His fingers dug into her hips, encouraging her to rock against the movements of his tongue until she cried out in ecstasy.

            Still trembling from the effects of the delicious orgasm Klaus has pulled from her, she leaned back until she could feel his zipper, taking a moment to massage his undoubtedly painful erection as she freed him. She slowly slid down his body until she could feel his cock, slick with desire, against her dripping center. With a wicked grin, she rubbed her pelvis against him, momentarily allowing his tip to brush against her damp folds before swiftly moving away. At his grunts of frustration, she ground herself against the sweat of his skin, breathing in their mingled desire.

            Klaus took advantage the moment she closed her eyes in blissful abandon, and quickly sat up, pulling her onto his hard cock and sliding home. He wrapped her thighs around his waist, angling his hips to reach every part of her. His lips were on fire as he attacked her breasts, clutching at her back while his eyes burned gold.

            She could feel that familiar ache building again, and she rolled her hips against his powerful thrusts, desperately seeking release. His growls against her flesh as he filled her left her a whining, groaning mess as she tumbled into another orgasm. They remained connected, panting as they reveled in that golden moment of lovers’ bliss.   

            Klaus glanced at the antique mantle clock on the bookcase across from them and with a sigh of regret, he tucked himself back into his jeans. Caroline followed his lead, playfully glaring at him when she spied her torn panties near the door. After straightening their rumpled clothes, Klaus said with a hint of concern, “During your lunch with Alaric, what do you make of his inquiries about the Phoenix Stone?”

            She frowned slightly, weighing her words before she answered, “I’ll admit I’m a bit paranoid now when it comes to the Phoenix Stone, but overall I feel like his questions were normal questions a department administrator would ask. He was concerned that I wasn’t making significant progress with my research in addition to my Sun and Moon Curse project.”

            He seemed to be mulling over her words, finally asking somewhat hesitantly, “I assume the stone is secure? You did not mention it when examining your loft for missing items, so you’ve hidden it either at the shelter or this office. Since you would never risk the safety of your charges at the shelter, I imagine you have it tucked away in here?”    

            Her lovely face registered surprise at how well he knew her. Nodding slightly, she considered her options. She had been amazed that Klaus hadn’t demanded the stone once his intentions had been revealed, but then she began to realize that it was his way of trying to demonstrate his trust in her. _Klaus trusted her_. It was time for her to trust him. Nodding to herself, she leaned over the side of her desk, feeling along the intricate carvings of the rich mahogany until the hidden latch was released. She held his gaze, telling him, “Since the ritual is almost upon us, I think you should keep it safe.” She carefully handed him the carved red beryl, a look of awe upon his handsome face.

            He touched it delicately, his voice a strangled whisper as he said, “You’ve entrusted me with the key to my brother’s freedom.”

            She melted at the wonder in his voice and reassured him, “You’ve put your faith in me. It’s only fair that I return the favor.” At her soft words, he pulls her in for a tender kiss, brushing his fingers through her messy blonde curls.

            Realizing that they easily could get carried away again, Caroline pulled back, giving him a wry smile. “As much as I would enjoy an encore, we both have work to do. You need to bring our medicine wheel research over to Bonnie’s and also find out if she has any ideas on the best location for the ritual. Suggest to her that there was an incredibly violent battle during the Powhatan Wars that took place a few miles outside of town. History tends to underreport the casualties of native populations, but my research indicates that it decimated the local Algonquian-speaking tribes in the 1600s.”

            Klaus sighed as he carefully tucked the stone into his pocket and balanced several books and files in his arms. “I noticed your use of _you_ instead of _we_ , love. I assume this means that you’re intending to remain in your office to modify the presentation slides per Alaric’s instructions?”

            She rolled her eyes, huffing, “Of course. I refuse to compel my boss and colleagues unless absolutely necessary.” Her blue eyes gleamed as she added impishly, “Besides, Alaric really felt that those slides needed some work.”

            Eyebrow cocked, he replied in a dry tone, “Don’t think I didn’t notice how you subtly blamed me for the slides Alaric took issue with. Hardly fair given you completed the entire presentation without my input, sweetheart.”

            She scoffed, playing with the edge of her laptop screen. “You were unavailable for consultation. And it’s not like you _care_. This is my career we’re talking about and when this mess is over, I expect to return to it with minimal fuss.”

            His eyes flashed briefly at her words regarding the aftermath of the ritual, as though he wanted to probe her thoughts concerning whatever was between them. However, he seemed to think better of it and instead said, “I assumed that would be your answer, love. Therefore, I’ve made arrangements for you to be carefully guarded during my absence.”

            Her office door opened with a bang, and she was irritated to see Rebekah standing defiantly at the threshold. Crossing her arms in front of her she turned to Klaus and spat, “Seriously?”

            The statuesque blonde glared back at her, frostily responding with, “Trust me, Caroline, if it wasn’t for Nik’s agreement to purchase Monique Lhuillier’s entire spring collection for me, I would have zero interest in your welfare.”

            “Watch your tongue, sister,” Klaus hissed, leaning down to place a protective kiss on Caroline’s lips. When he straightened, he commanded her, “You are to treat Caroline with the utmost respect and above all, keep her safe.” Placing a final, gentle kiss on top of Caroline’s curls, he flashed from the room, leaving the women alone in an awkwardly silence.

            Rebekah snorted derisively as she spied the torn panties near the door. Delicately pointing the open toe of her metallic stiletto bootie near the fabric she said venomously, “Tell me, Caroline, are you such an easy conquest because of your homely appearance or do your insecurities lie deeper?”

            Incensed, Caroline flashed over to Rebekah, the other blonde’s icy blue eyes widening as though she hadn’t expected Caroline to attack. Instead, Caroline grabbed the torn cotton, flashing back to her desk to angrily stuff it into her red satchel. She whirled around to face Rebekah with a look of contempt she normally reserved for Tyler’s academic incompetence. “Slut-shaming is such a predictable tool for petty, ignorant people who desperately want to cover up their own insecurities.”

            Rebekah laughed, “What a surprise the little bookworm wants to hide behind her fancy education. Spare me your lecture about the Romans or whomever and how they slut-shamed women as part of some stupid cultural dynamic that you wrote a paper about that no one bothered reading because no one cares.”

            “Actually, research has discovered numerous references to the fertility god, Priapus, in addition to stunning mosaic imagery which indicates quite relaxed views concerning sexuality in Ancient Rome. Perhaps you meant Ancient Greece,” Caroline responded sarcastically, taking particular delight in the scowl that crept across Rebekah’s face.

            “Whatever,” Rebekah scoffed, “It doesn’t concern me in the least that you think I’m stupid just because I enjoy fashion. You don’t know anything about me.”

            Rolling her eyes, Caroline settled behind her desk, muttering under her breath as she accessed her research files. “Just as you clearly know nothing about me. I would _never_ judge someone else’s passion. And there’s nothing wrong with liking fashion. Have you ever considered exploring your interest further? You could go to a design school and maybe create your own clothing line. It’s not like you don’t have the money to do it and it’s a waste of perfectly good immortal life if you’re not doing what you love.”

            Rebekah seemed stunned as she sat down in the remaining blue armchair that was still upright. “I...I never thought about it before. Education wasn’t a luxury my family could afford in our village and after we turned, survival was our only concern.”

            Caroline waved her hands in aggravation. “See? That right there! If anything, I’m envious of _you_ because you have _lived_ history. You possess the inviable heritage of a respected, powerful, innovative people. That’s amazing!”

            Looking somewhat sheepish, Rebekah answered in a small voice, “Thank you.” For several uncomfortable moments, she fiddled with the links in her diamond and silver bracelets. “Do you...perhaps you would offer some advice on where to begin with enrolling in a design school?”

            Smiling warmly, Caroline nodded. “Of course. But in exchange I want to pester you about obscure Norseman customs when I have some time.” She groaned as she added, “Of course, who knows when that will be. I’m supervising a shipment of clothes and toiletries to the shelter this weekend and I promised Alaric I’d have a revised slide deck to him by Monday. Maybe I’ll see if Matty can research some of these talking points.”

            “Matty,” Rebekah asked curiously. “You’re quite protective of your little human assistant. I heard all about him from my brother — in the beginning he was quite jealous, you know. Kept grumbling about an innocent baby face he desperately wanted to pummel.”

            “No,” Caroline answered firmly. “You are not to interact with Matty. He’s my brilliant student and I want him kept out of this nonsense so he can lead a remarkable, beautiful human life where he will be revered in his field.” She shrugged her shoulders, adding, “Besides, he has a girlfriend that he really seems to like.”

            Rebekah sighed, “Pity. He sounded delicious.”

            Grumbling, Caroline returned to the slide deck, and the women lapsed into a silence that wasn’t quite companionable, but at least marked the beginnings of a truce.

* * *

 

            The following week found Caroline anxiously following Klaus into the clearing Bonnie and Lucy had identified as the center of one of the most violent battles during the Powhatan Wars. She admired the impressive arches and strong lines of the modified Native American medicine wheel that the witches had painstakingly outlined with smooth quartz stones. Glancing up at the night sky, she estimated that the penumbral lunar eclipse was nearly at its apex. _It was almost time_.

            Noticing their arrival, Bonnie left Lucy and Rebekah at the makeshift tree stump altar, jogging over to Caroline. The look of worry on her face was alarming. “Caroline, I want you to know that he followed us here and refused to leave. But if you want him gone, I’ll _make_ him go,” she finished angrily, red sparks igniting from her fingertips.

            Confused, Caroline scanned the area, not understanding what Bonnie was talking about. She sighed in resignation when she noticed Stefan step out of a thick cluster of trees, hesitantly walking toward her. “What the fuck, Stefan? I told you to stay away from me,” she ranted, stomping her foot angrily.

            He held up his palms in what was meant to be a calming gesture, which only served to incense Caroline further. “Caroline, I just want to be here for you. Please let me help.”

            The pain in his voice hurt her heart, but she shook her head in irritation. “No, Stefan. I’m not ready to deal with you and you need to respect that. You need to respect _me_.”

            Before Stefan could respond, Klaus flashed over to him, clutching his throat in one clawed hand and effortlessly raising him several inches above the ground. “I told you to stay away from Caroline, you useless little vampire,” he hissed.

            “Honestly Nik, can you please set aside your silly insecurities about your relationship with Caroline until after we get our brother back,” Rebekah called out in exasperation.

            Caroline anxiously flicked her blue eyes up at the night sky once more, noting the angle of the moon was in the correct position for the ritual. With a heavy sigh, she placed her hand gently on Klaus’ forearm as he continued to throttle Stefan. “Klaus, just let him go. We need to start the spell.” She watched in satisfaction as Klaus released his death grip, allowing her former best friend to crumple to the hard ground, gasping for breath.

            “Very well, love,” he agreed, lacing his fingers with hers as they walked over to the medicine wheel. He handed the Phoenix Stone to Bonnie, the dull red catching the moonlight. The witch ran her thumb carefully over the spiral petroglyph carved into one side, starting to draw upon its energy.

            Lucy began chanting, throwing belladonna onto the flickering flames of the small fire near the altar. At her brief nod, Rebekah poured honeyed mead from a carved stone bowl in a semicircle, a look of trepidation on her beautiful face as she glanced at the Phoenix Stone Bonnie carried to the center of the medicine wheel.

            Bonnie gestured toward Klaus and Caroline, who joined her inside the quartz-lined symbol. Klaus squeezed Caroline’s hand encouragingly as she held out her forearm to Bonnie. Her friend’s voice joined Lucy’s, her chanting low but confident as she pulled out a short obsidian blade.

            Caroline held her breath as she watched Bonnie hold the knife over her head, pointing its sharpened tip at the penumbral lunar eclipse above them. The air vibrated with power and a soft whisper of red sparks flew from Bonnie’s fingers as she brought the blade down and carefully sliced a thin line into Caroline’s ivory flesh. She quickly placed the red stone underneath the droplets of blood, ensuring that none was wasted. The quartz stones began to shake, shifting out of their carefully placed positions as the earth trembled beneath them.

            A flash of dull, throbbing red light shot out of the Phoenix Stone, and Bonnie cried out as her nose began to bleed. “No! Something’s wrong,” she gasped, shuddering as the spell’s power overcame her small form. Lucy yelled in pain as her body began to convulse as well, but the group was distracted by the sudden appearance of a decidedly disheveled Original in the center of the medicine wheel.

            “Elijah,” Klaus declared hoarsely as his gray eyes filled with powerful emotions, but before he could embrace his long-lost brother, the Phoenix Stone unexpectedly released another pulsating red beam that enveloped Klaus and Caroline, temporarily cloaking the couple from the rest of the group.

            When the red light faded, the group was astonished to find that Klaus and Caroline had disappeared.            


	14. No Need for a Savior

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the support you’re giving this story!
> 
> Also, I have exciting news — my original work has been published through Amazon Digital Services LLC! It’s a contemporary rom-com and a fun summer read, available for download and in paperback; if you enjoyed my other Klaroline multi-chap, Skewered, you’ll like this one! See my notes at the end of this chapter for a brief synopsis. Feel free to PM me with questions!
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: More sexy times to be had!

            The harsh, scratchy feel of sagebrush branches jolted Caroline awake. Confused, she pushed away the silvery leaves, inhaling the sage’s earthy smell that was oddly muddled with the sharp, tangy aromas of pinyon pine and juniper trees. She stood up, brushing sand from her jeans while her blue eyes widened in surprise as she took in the landscape around her. Rather than the forest clearing in Mystic Falls, she appeared to be in a desert. As she felt the dry, searing heat and saw the vast canyons and breathtaking sandstone formations, she decided that she was inexplicably in the Mesa Verde area of Colorado.

            Brows knit in confusion, she tried to recall everything she knew about the area from her research. The land was home to some of the best preserved Native American archaeological sites in the U.S., and she had excavated with several crews to locate incredible Anasazi artifacts. She squinted in irritation, finally noting the dull red haze that seemed to cover everything around her. _Wait. Red. Like the Phoenix Stone. Holy shit — she was inside the stone!_ Panicking, she thought back to the ritual, and facts started sliding into place. The stone was an Anasazi artifact, so it made sense on some level that it would trap tribal enemies in a world that would look similar to what they knew.

            She recalled how Klaus had held her hand while Bonnie had sliced her arm for the ritual... _Oh my god — Klaus!_ “Klaus,” she shouted hoarsely, frantically looking around the sparse grasslands hoping to catch a glimpse of his dirty blonde curls. “Where are you,” she called out, unable to keep the terror from her voice. She knew he had been with her when the throbbing red light had enveloped them both, and she felt a growing sense of dread as she realized that he must have been trapped in the Phoenix Stone with her. _But where was he?_

            She started flashing through the desert, racing over stray patches of blue and purple wildflowers as she tried to get her bearings while shouting his name. To combat the icy terror she felt at the idea that they were not only trapped in the artifact but also separated from each other, she tried to recall details about the ritual or her research that could help. Bonnie had shouted that something went wrong with the spell, and she had begun to bleed along with Lucy’s convulsions, so clearly something had backfired. Had an outside influence tampered with the spell? She was worried about Bonnie and Lucy — intense magic demanded a terrible physical price of witches. She hoped that they were okay. At least Stefan had been there, and regardless of how angry she was at him, she knew he would at least be on hand to feed them blood if needed. She still wasn’t sure about Rebekah, but she assumed that the woman wouldn’t purposely cause harm to those who were trying to help her family.

            She stopped suddenly, rubbing her temples as she remembered that not everything about the ritual had gone wrong. From Klaus’ emotional reaction, the group had at least been successful at freeing Elijah. She hated how Klaus had been unfairly ripped from his siblings just as he laid eyes on his brother for the first time in a century. She couldn’t begin to imagine what Klaus must be feeling.

            Swiping at her teary blue eyes, she instead tried to focus on what Elijah’s release from the stone could mean. Was it possible that they misunderstood the ritual and it was meant to be an exchange — one body for another? No, if that was the case, the stone wouldn’t have trapped both of them inside. Something else was at play here. Someone must be working against them. But who? Was it somehow related to the break-in at her loft where someone stole her bracelet and left that creepy primrose?

            Caroline had far too many questions and she shook her head angrily, running her fingers through her tangled blonde curls as she searched for answers that seemed just out of her reach. Without warning, a building materialized in front of her, and with trepidation, she recognized the stately twin marble columns and brick exterior of the homeless shelter. She couldn’t understand why it would suddenly be perched on the desert sands she had been exploring.

            Come to think of it, she didn’t understand _anything_ about what the stone had subjected her to so far. According to legend, the stone punished tribal enemies by torturing them with visions of their evils along with endless attacks by vicious monsters the Anasazi called forth. So far, none of those things had happened to her. While she hadn’t been a typical vampire who had given into her bloodlust and innate predator drive, it didn’t mean she had lived like a saint this past century. She had inflicted pain upon others and while she could somewhat justify her actions as she preyed on those who committed evils of their own, she knew her soul was stained. So, where was her punishment that legends foretold awaited her in the Phoenix Stone?

            A low, guttural hiss nearly made her jump out of her skin, and she narrowed her eyes at the dull red haze to see a large turkey vulture perched on the roof of the mansion. The wrinkled, ruby-colored head seemed to be creepily following her movements as she carefully stepped away from the threshold of the shelter. She understood that being trapped in the Phoenix Stone meant that she would be thrown into a mystical construct that the Anasazi shamans would have created, so she instantly was wary of the creature.

            Animal spirits were deeply respected by Native Americans and held great value within their culture. They were believed to be messengers from the spirit world. To see one during a vision quest would carry profound meaning for the individual. Her heart began beating a rapid tattoo in her chest as she recalled that in Native American culture, vultures were evil omens that foretold betrayal by those to whom one was most loyal. Frowning, she thought back to Stefan and Klaus and how both had hurt her with their lies. However, this wasn’t new knowledge — was the omen hinting at something deeper? Something she had missed?

            The intimidating bird of prey gave a nasal whine as it launched itself into the air, disappearing in a wisp of black smoke. She gazed at the shelter before her, its familiar bricks no longer a cheerful red, but instead it seemed alive under her gaze; a bleeding, angry demon that watched every move she made. If she went inside, would she finally find whatever punishment the Phoenix Stone desired for her? Refusing to cower in fear, she squared her shoulders and marched inside, her footsteps echoing on the maple floors.

            Caroline’s supernatural hearing caught conversations that sounded vaguely familiar, and as she flashed toward the sounds, she found strangely empty rooms where echoes of the past seemed to haunt. She suddenly recognized Jenna’s tearful voice coming from the kitchen:

            _Caroline, I don’t know how to thank you. We’ve been afraid for so long. You’ve given us our life back._

Caroline recalled that day when Jenna and Jesse had stood in that kitchen, tears shining in their hopeful eyes as they thanked Caroline for taking them in after Jesse’s crippling PTSD had taken over their lives.

            A series of light footsteps racing down the hallway caught her attention, and she cautiously poked her head out to see if she would finally catch whatever horrible creature or vision the stone would throw her way. The hallway was still empty, but the childish giggles lingered, and rather than filling her with dread, her heart was lifted as she recalled how many children she had seen pass through her shelter and move on to better lives. Why would the stone try to punish her in this manner? After all, she was proud of what she had accomplished over the years with her charity work.

            Confused, she stepped back into the hallway and immediately tripped over several fishing poles that suddenly appeared against a paneled wall. Untangling her long legs from the rods, she saw the glint of something silver caught in a reel. The delicate object was peeking out of the clear plastic line and she curiously dug her nails into the opening, trying to pull it free. When she spied the hint of yellow, she nearly dropped the fishing pole in surprise, but she stubbornly kept trying to wedge the object out of the knotted line.

            With a shaky breath, she managed to release the jewelry, a small cry of alarm when she realized that it looked just like the silver bracelet with the yellow daisy clasp that her father had given her before he went off to war. _The bracelet that someone had stolen from her home_. What did it mean? Before her startled gaze, the delicate bracelet also disappeared in a wisp of black smoke, just like the vulture on the roof.

            Without warning, a tormented cry shattered the air, spurring her into action as she recognized Klaus’ voice. She raced out of the mansion, calling out to him in relief, “Klaus! I’m here!” She stopped short when she found him on his knees, bleeding profusely from deep gouges in his arms and neck. As she flashed to his side, she realized the gaping wounds were bite marks. “What the hell happened to you,” she shrieked, heart thudding in her chest as she knelt beside him.

            There was a wild look in his gray eyes as he quickly pushed Caroline behind him. “No! You can’t be here! It will be back and I...I can’t protect you.”

            The fear in his voice chilled her, and she could feel how he trembled under her touch. _What had made him so afraid?_ She started to offer Klaus her blood so that he could heal faster, but before she could form the words, a sinister figure appeared before them, a disturbing vision of a man’s form that had been bent and twisted until it also resembled a coyote. Patches of rust-colored fur stained his flesh, but the odor on the searing desert wind told Caroline that the creature wore blood. _Klaus’ blood_. Its muddy yellow eyes shone with cruelty and madness as it advanced toward Klaus, tracing its long red tongue over enormous canines.

            Klaus clutched his temples, squeezing his eyes shut as he yelled, “No! I won’t go back to that place! I am stronger now and he is dead!” His body began to convulse with whatever horrific visions the creature was inflicting upon him.

            Caroline shivered at the possessive growl the monster gave as it glared at Klaus. She forced herself into action, jumping protectively in front of Klaus’ crumpled form to face the beast. Recalling folklore from southwestern tribes, she understood that this twisted creature was likely a Yenaldooshi, or skin-walker. Said to be evil witches who gained their power by murdering a blood relative, they could shift into coyotes to stalk unsuspecting humans. Clearly the Phoenix Stone had imbued this monster with the ability to torment those who were trapped inside with visions of their pasts.

            Caroline realized that the Yenaldooshi had retreated several steps as it registered her presence. In fact, an odd, low whine greeted her as it seemed to duck its head in shame. Shaking her head in confusion, she continued toward it, leading it away from Klaus. Why wasn’t it attacking her? Where were her horrific visions? Her past was a bloody tapestry of pain the creature could choose from — her father’s madness after the war, her uncontrollable hunger and its terrible cost, moments of anger that fueled her predatory instincts — any of these memories easily could render her a trembling shell of herself, but instead the monster turned away from her. _What the hell was going on?_

            Taking advantage of the creature’s inexplicable fear of her, she remembered what the myths said about defeating a Yenaldooshi. In a commanding voice she told it, “Reveal your name!”

            The beast cowered before Caroline as though she had struck it with a powerful blow. It bowed its head, trembling as it hoarsely bit out syllables in what sounded like a proto-Tanoan language. With a whine, it evaporated into the same signature black smoke she had seen from the other visions.

            Klaus sat up with a gasp, the last of his painful screams fading in the harsh desert wind. He unsteadily grasped Caroline’s hand, placing it over his heart. Staring deeply into her eyes, he seemed to find strength in the compassion he saw there. “Thank you.” He took a shaky breath, still clutching her hand as he asked with trepidation, “How did you fight past the visions that creature inflicted upon you?”

            She pulled him close, gently running her fingers through his disheveled dirty blonde curls. His clammy skin still twitched as though it retained the echoes of the beast’s torture, and she held back her tears as she imagined what horrors Klaus had seen. In a soft voice, she explained, “There were no visions. At least none like what you faced.” Frowning, she added, “I don’t think the Yenaldooshi wanted to hurt me. In fact, it seemed almost _afraid_ of hurting me.”

            He looked up at her, gray eyes full of confusion as he asked, “It didn’t come after you?” As she shook her head, he managed a small smile. Kissing her knuckles, he said roughly, “At least you weren’t hurt, love. However, it does beg the question ‘why?’. After all, we’re both trapped in this stone, supposedly meant to suffer visions of the most wretched parts of our past.” He rubbed the side of his jaw, adding, “The last thing I remember of the ritual is feeling this bizarre sensation, as though an invisible hook was pulling me somewhere.”

            Caroline frowned as she processed this revelation. She hadn’t felt anything like what Klaus described. _What did it mean?_ He shrewdly picked up on her hesitation and carefully asked, “The stone may not have subjected you to dark visions of your past, but it did show you _something_. What was it, love?”

            She sighed, flicking her gaze briefly to the red sky above, wishing she could see past the crimson haze that surrounded them. “There was this vulture. As you know, animals carried deep meaning in tribal mythology, so to see one in a vision was not to be taken lightly.”

            “A vulture? At least it wasn’t a crow,” he countered with a small quirk of his lips.     

            She huffed, “Seriously? Crows don’t represent what everyone thinks they do and people need to stop assuming that Hollywood is an authority on ancient symbols!” Rolling her eyes, she explained, “Crows are a sign of protection and luck. Native Americans believed that crows were the keepers of all sacred laws. Vultures, unfortunately, are the antithesis of crows in mythology.” She felt an icy pit in her stomach as she thought about what the vision could mean.

            Clearly sensing Caroline’s discomfort, Klaus moved his head from her lap, wrapping his arms around her as he placed a reassuring kiss on the top of her tangled curls. “What do vultures represent?”

            Her cheek twitched. “Betrayal. By the ones closest to me.” She squeezed her eyes shut as her throat tightened. “And then it showed me my shelter and...my stolen bracelet was inside.”

            As her voice broke, his arms tightened around her and he growled, “I had considered the possibility that the break in at your loft was linked to my brother’s botched ritual. It seems when we make our escape, we’ll need to closely watch those whom we’ve given our trust, sweetheart.”

            Not able to stomach the idea of further betrayal in her life, Caroline instead said, “But the ritual didn’t fail — at least not all of it. It appeared that Elijah was set free. We did it.”

            She could feel his body tense against hers as he admitted quietly, “To see my brother after all this time — there are no words. Even having to endure the cursed visions and experience everything that I —” he cut himself off, instead hoarsely finishing with, “it was worth it.”

            She gently pulled away to regard him gravely. “The monster made you see your father. The beatings.” She shook her head, squeezing his hand as she said, “I’m so sorry, Klaus. No one should have to go through that.”

            He regarded her calmly, the steel in his gaze unwavering as he told her, “It made me see my victims as well. I felt the horror of what I was to them. Don’t mistake me, Caroline, I know that I am a monster.” His voice tightened as he added, “It’s important that you know it as well.”

            She slowly nodded. “It took me a long time to reconcile who I used to be with what I’ve become, Klaus. I have no illusions about our differing moral codes. I have no need for a savior and I have no interest in being yours.” She laced her fingers with his, gazing at him without fear as she vowed, “This will not break us. We won’t let it.”

            Her words seem to spark something within him and he pulled her in for a passionate kiss, pouring out every drop of emotion that he could not name. As she clutched at his chest, she felt the shredded fabric and his torn flesh, reminders of the skin-walker’s fangs and claws. She removed her lips from his, panting as she insisted, “You haven’t fully healed yet. Take some of my blood.”

            The steel in his eyes flared gold as he bent his head to tenderly kiss her exposed throat, causing her to shiver from anticipation. He smoothly slid his fangs into her soft skin, the pleasurable burn of his sharp teeth pulling a low moan from her. As his wounds knit back to reveal unblemished flesh, Caroline couldn’t resist when he offered her his own neck in return.

            She tore off his ruined shirt, tracing his collarbone with her tongue before biting down just above it and allowing his spicy blood to pool before drinking it down. With a sexy growl, Klaus pulled away her embroidered blouse, flicking his tongue deliciously along her exposed nipples. At her small cry, he flashed her a devious smirk before ducking his head once more to latch onto her breast with sensual fangs and tongue.

            Caroline spread her thighs, impatiently yanking open the button to her jeans as she pulled down the zipper. A hum of delight fell from her pink lips as she slid her hand against the wetness that had gathered, feeling how her folds were slick with desire.

            He breathed in her scent, his calculating gaze still a heated gold as he eagerly watched her tentative exploration. “I’ve committed your delectable smell to memory. It lingers on me, love.” His voice dropped to a seductive whisper as he rubbed along the growing bulge in his pants, sending her a wicked grin. “When I tug on my cock, that’s the scent that makes me come. _Every.single.time_.”

            She moaned at his sexy confession, her fingers increasing their pace as she gasped out, “Show me?”

            He wordlessly opened his jeans, pulling out his stiff member as he tugged along its length, never taking his greedy stare from the sinful movements of her fingers. He ran his hand up and down his sensitive flesh, the reddened tip dripping and twitching in his grip. Caroline licked her lips, savoring every stroke as they got off together. She could feel herself reaching her peak and she cried out against her soaked fingers, circling her hips as she chased down the last of that white-hot spark shooting through her.

            Noticing Klaus was on the edge of his own release, she traced her sticky fingers along his lips, a smug smile on her face as she watched him lose control, lapping at her essence while his own orgasm overtook him completely. With a final, desire-filled kiss, they broke apart, smiling their secret smiles as they readjusted clothing.

            Caroline had opened her mouth to suggest they try exploring the desert some more to figure out how to escape when she suddenly felt an odd pulling sensation like the one Klaus described just before the red light had enveloped them during the ritual and trapped them. She realized that Klaus wasn’t experiencing the same feeling and she quickly grabbed both of his arms, holding on so tightly that her nails broke the pale surface of his skin.

            As the familiar red light surrounded them, she realized that whoever had manipulated their ritual had intended for Klaus to be trapped inside the Phoenix Stone, but she had been pulled in with him because they had been holding hands.

            Whoever was pulling Caroline out of the stone now clearly hadn’t planned on her returning with Klaus. _How would they react when they realized their plan had failed?_       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I mentioned earlier, I’ve published an original novel through Amazon Digital Services LLC. You can find a link to it on my tumblr: supremeuppityone  
> It’s called Chicken and Vice. If you enjoyed Skewered, you’ll like this novel! Feel free to message me for more info! 
> 
> Here’s a brief synopsis:  
>  Chicken and dumplings have never been so sexy!   
>  Just ask Lily Cantrell, owner of the Saucy Wench Restaurant. A chance meeting at a nightclub with a mysterious, sexy British stranger named Jack turns her world into a pineapple upside-down cake from which she may never recover! Especially when she learns that Jack is a deviled egg-ecutive of Augustine Enterprises, the dastardly conglomerate that has harassed her to no end trying to buy the recipe for her famous chicken and dumplings.   
>  Sparks fly as Jack relentlessly pursues Lily, but is he after her heart or her chef secrets? Fortunately, this fussy foodie can count on her zany grandmothers and friends to help her get to the root-abaga of Jack’s intentions (in between rounds of mahjong and Kitchen Peeper Bingo, that is!).   
>  Chicken and Vice takes the reader on an enjoyable journey where our characters learn that letting someone in has never been so terrifying — or rewarding.


	15. Someone Else’s Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Thank you for all of your positive feedback and continued enthusiasm for my story! Some more clues for you in this chapter along with some hopefully unexpected surprises! 
> 
> Warning: Some violence.

            Their landing was disorienting and Caroline felt her knees buckle as she crumpled to the ground inside the ritual’s medicine wheel. She could feel Klaus give her hand a reassuring squeeze that helped to calm her and then she was swept up into the insistent embrace of Bonnie who was babbling like a madwoman. “Caroline! We were so worried! What the hell happened in there?! I swear, I don’t know what went wrong with the ritual; it was like someone else’s magic hijacked ours!” Lucy stood behind her, nodding in agreement while wringing her hands nervously.

            Caroline could hear Rebekah worriedly ask Klaus questions that he only vaguely answered. She could sense his unease and it somehow comforted her to know that she wasn’t alone with her turbulent emotions. Suddenly, a strong arm aggressively jerked her away from Bonnie and she sucked in her breath when she realized it was Stefan who had grabbed her. Glaring at him pointedly, he seemed to realize his mistake and quickly released her.

            “Caroline! Are you all right?” His brown eyes narrowed at Klaus who seemed to be awkwardly embracing his long-lost brother. “What did he do to you,” he asked venomously.

            She flushed slightly, the racy images of their impromptu “show and tell” flooding her thoughts and causing her to blush. She couldn’t help but glance over at Klaus, his beautiful bare chest glowing in the soft, silver moonlight.

            Noticing her gaze, Stefan ranted loudly, “And why is his shirt gone?” His warm brown eyes showed concern as he took in her disheveled appearance. “You’re not thinking clearly. You need to be careful, Caroline. I see you getting close with Klaus again and I’m worried about you. I know I no longer have your friendship because of the things I’ve done; but you’ll always have mine. I’m always going to care about you and I just don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

            She took a breath to calm down before she spoke. She could feel her temper rising as Stefan criticized her choices, but she also could hear his concern. It reminded her of happier times when her friendship with Stefan was everything to her. _Before she learned what he was capable of_. Her brow furrowed as the visions from the Phoenix Stone plagued her thoughts. The vulture was considered an evil omen that signified betrayal by someone close to her, someone she pledged her loyalty to. _She shouldn’t trust Stefan_.

            She stepped away from him, a pang in her heart as she saw the way his shoulders slumped at her obvious bid to put distance between them. “Klaus’ shirt was shredded by a Yenaldooshi, a skin-walker, while we were trapped in the stone,” she explained, her words slow as she carefully measured them before speaking. She hated this — the uncertainty of not knowing if she could trust those around her.

            At her words, Elijah seemed to stiffen, his dark eyes glazing over as though he was reliving his own tortured visions from the Phoenix Stone. Rebekah squeezed both Klaus and Elijah’s hands, her tone halting as she asked, “I can’t imagine what you all must have faced. Do you...want to tell us what happened?”

            Klaus grimly shook his head, his troubled gray eyes flicking over to Caroline as though searching for strength. “The stone torments you with visions of your past. There’s nothing to discuss,” he said in a clipped tone that discouraged further questions.

            Caroline realized that Klaus didn’t want to share her visions with the group. She understood his reasoning, but it bothered her to knowingly withhold information. However, since all of this started, she had learned her lesson about assuming that the face someone showed her was real. Plastering on a wide smile, she asked curiously, “It looks like you guys were able to free us from the stone fairly quickly. How did you manage it?”

            Bonnie and Lucy exchanged worried glances. “That’s just it...we were still arguing over what spell to use when you suddenly appeared,” Bonnie explained with a helpless shrug.

            “What do you mean,” Klaus asked, his gray eyes flashing a dangerous gold as he instinctively moved closer to Caroline.

            “Only someone with great power could have trapped you and then released you from the stone,” Bonnie gravely answered.

            Elijah’s voice was uneven, as though he hadn’t used it in decades, which, Caroline supposed, could be possible given what he had been through. “When Mikael imprisoned me, it took a coven of 20 witches led by an Obeah woman.”

            Eyes widening in fascination, Caroline couldn’t help but immediately begin bombarding the weary Original with questions. “Really? Obeah originated with the Ashanti and Koromantin tribes along the Gold Coast and its elaborate belief system followed the slave trade routes to the Caribbean as early as the mid-17th century. Did you get a sense of how the Obeah woman came into power? Traditionally, they operate under a patriarchal leadership, so I’d love to sit down with you sometime to discuss the idols or other ceremonial objects she used. It could be a fascinating journal article on evolving social constructs within ancient belief systems...” She trailed off uncertainly, noticing the similar wry smiles on Klaus and Stefan’s faces at her excited ramblings.

            Elijah blinked in surprise, studying her with newfound interest before tilting his head slightly as he favored Klaus with an unreadable expression. “It would be my pleasure to abide you, once I’m feeling more...myself,” he said somewhat stiffly, but with a small smile that reflected an innate kindness she hadn’t expected.

            Clearing his throat, Klaus commanded, “Right. Well, it’s been an eventful evening, so I suggest we let it lie for now and reconvene tomorrow.” He nodded toward Rebekah, “Take Elijah home and tomorrow you can watch over Caroline while I spend some time getting reacquainted with our brother.”

            Caroline started to protest, knowing that Klaus should be with his family and reconnect with his long-lost brother, but she realized that he most likely wanted to discuss with her Bonnie’s revelation about their return and the mysterious, powerful force that could be responsible. Nodding, she took his hand, bidding everyone goodbye and tried to ignore the concern etched upon Stefan’s face as she and Klaus flashed away.

           

* * *

            Once they returned to her loft, she immediately flashed to her kitchen and poured them both generous servings of cognac. Thrusting the glass tumbler into Klaus’ hand, she quirked an eyebrow when she noticed him wrinkle his nose at the smell. “Seriously?! After what you just went through, mid-range cognac is what finally offends your delicate sensibilities?” She snorted, taking a generous gulp of the vanilla-flavored liquor, welcoming the familiar warmth to sink into her bones.

            She reached for the square decanter, adding another splash of the sweet-smelling amber liquid into her glass. Biting her lip, she said in a more serious tone, “You want to talk about it?”

            Klaus took a small sip, running a hand tiredly through his tangled curls. Setting down the glass, he sighed, “What your friend Bonnie revealed is troubling to the say the least — someone of great power altered the spell and purposely trapped us in the stone before inexplicably deciding to release us.”

            “Actually, I think that they only meant to trap _one_ of us in the Phoenix Stone,” she replied hesitantly. “You said you felt a pulling sensation before we were trapped in the stone, and I was holding onto you, so I was dragged inside as well. Then, I could tell something was trying to pull me out, so I grabbed onto you to make sure we both were released.” She shuddered as she recalled the skin-walker and her visions. “Plus, the creature attacked _you_ , not me. It even behaved as though it had been commanded not to harm me. Whoever’s behind this clearly didn’t want me trapped in there.”

            His fingers twitched at her words and he immediately caressed her cheek with his thumb, his gray eyes reflecting his anger. “Because they are obsessed with you. The break-in here where they left the primrose and stole your bracelet is clearly connected to whomever took control of the ritual.” A possessive growl erupted from his chest. “They forced me into the stone in an attempt to separate us. They viewed me as an obstacle to get to you. I won’t let that happen, sweetheart. _They cannot have you_.”

            Klaus’ words immediately caused her pulse to quicken as she started to panic. _What if he was right?_ Suddenly needing fresh air to clear her mind, she stalked out of the kitchen and across the living room until she reached the French doors to her balcony. Throwing them open, she stepped out onto the terrace, the warm night air settling over her skin like a soothing blanket.

            Klaus flashed behind her, wrapping his arms around her protectively. She could feel his strength seeping into her, and her body slowly started to relax. He kissed the top of her messy blonde curls, murmuring, “It wasn’t my intention to alarm you, love. I merely wanted to reassure you that whatever unknown danger is pursuing you, I vow to stop it.”

            She sighed, turning slightly so that she could look at him. “I know and it means a lot to me — having you here. I just don’t know where to begin trying to figure out where we go from here.” She hated the helplessness that creeped into her tone. “I have no idea who could be _this_ invested in my life. The only people I know are at the university and my shelter.”

            “Is there anyone who has recently inserted themselves into your life, sweetheart?” His concerned tone was too much for her and she could feel the tears prick the corners of her eyes.

            Needing to lighten the mood, she placed her hands lightly on his bare chest and said with a wry smile, “Well, now that you mention it, there has been this shady hybrid who came out of nowhere.” With a small giggle, she added, “He’s been known to do some _inserting_ recently.”

            His eyes flashed gold as he smirked down at her, “Perhaps I could interest you in some further _inserting_ , sweetheart?” He quickly covered her lips with his own, drawing her into a kiss that flooded her senses with desire and need, blocking out the world around them until their troubles were forgotten.

            Down the block, a figure hidden in the shadows stood in silence, their fists clenched in anger as they observing the couple kissing passionately. 

* * *

 

            The next day, Caroline chewed her lip nervously as she raced toward Alaric’s office, angry that she had overslept (although feeling especially relaxed after a _thorough_ examination by a sexy hybrid). Pausing outside Alaric’s paneled door to pat down her messy curls one last time and take a calming breath, she casually knocked, opening the door when she heard his voice. Plastering on a cheerful smile, she walked in, waving a black portfolio at him. “I have excellent news! I just came from the printer’s and they finished the advertising proofs for the Sun and Moon Curse lecture series a week early.” She handed him the portfolio, inwardly squealing at how well the tasteful photos of the artifacts had turned out.

            Uncomfortable with the department head’s silence, she was too keyed up to sit in one of his chairs and instead started pacing as she rambled, “Also, I’m pleased to report that I’ve finished the abstract summaries for the first three journal articles Klaus and I will write and I’ve made some additional headway with the Phoenix Stone research.” A note of pride entered her voice as she added, “Matt has been a tremendous help in that area.”

            The older man cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Yes, you’ve done excellent work on all fronts, but I did want to discuss the matter of the Phoenix Stone with you. While you excel at your research, I feel that your focus has been unfairly divided between the Sun and Moon Curse artifacts and the Phoenix Stone. I think you could benefit from having a gifted researcher take over the Phoenix Stone research. That way, you could put all of your energy into the lecture series we’ve planned for the Sun and Moon Curse project.”

            Caroline halted her pacing, a feeling of dread washing over her. “What gifted researcher,” she asked carefully, barely keeping the venom from her voice as she suspected where Alaric was going with this.

            “Tyler Lockwood, of course,” Alaric answered, folding his hands under his chin as he seemed to nervously wait for her reaction.

            She couldn’t help the snort of derision that she emitted the second Alaric spoke Tyler’s name. “There’s a lot of adjectives that describe Tyler Lockwood, but _gifted_ and _researcher_ don’t even crack the top 100.”

            He narrowed his eyes, his tone of disapproval evident. “Now Caroline, I know you and Tyler have had your differences, but he’s a valuable member of our department and has contributed to its sterling reputation just as you have. In the spirit of academic inquiry, I expect you to willingly collaborate with Tyler as needed and share your research with him immediately.”

            Caroline crossed her arms in front of her, seething with rage. “Is it safe to assume that if I don’t, then I’ll find my position at this university suddenly in jeopardy?”

            Alaric’s eyes briefly shined with a dangerous light. His tone carried a hint of mocking as he answered, “Caroline, you are a tenured professor here; I can’t imagine a situation in which that would end. However, the university often faces _unexpected_ budget cuts...especially for scholarships in our graduate program.”

            Blue eyes spitting fire, she bit back her rage. _Matt. He was talking about Matt. Alaric was threatening Matt’s academic future_. “I see. I think we understand each other perfectly. Thank you for your candor, Alaric,” she said coldly, walking out of his office in a measured pace as her dark thoughts consumed her.

            As she rounded the corner, she stumbled into none other than Tyler Lockwood. With a smug grin, his eyes lit up as his hands gripped her shoulders, steadying her unnecessarily against his body. “Caroline,” he greeted her knowingly, “funny running into you here. Can I assume Alaric told you the good news?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, adding, “It looks like we’re going to be working a lot _closer_ together.”

            She scoffed, not bothering to hide her supernatural strength as she jerked her shoulders out of his grasp. She said disgustedly, “Drop the pointless flirting, Tyler. We both know you have no interest in me — you just want to steal my work. You’re a useless, talentless waste skating by on his family name and money.”

            His jaw tightened, but he also seemed oddly energized by her spiteful words. “You’re right that I’ve never really liked you, Caroline, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t noticed how attractive you are.” His eyes scanned her body, making her feel slightly ill. “And now that our department head is giving me permission to take over your research project, maybe you and I can come to some kind of _arrangement_.” In a falsely sympathetic tone he added, “After all, I know how important the Phoenix Stone research is to you. Almost as important as it is for your poor, innocent little protégé Matt to graduate.”

            As a rule, Caroline disliked using compulsion on humans, even the despicable ones like Tyler. However, her temper already was simmering near the surface after her disastrous meeting with Alaric and Tyler’s wildly inappropriate behavior sealed his fate. She always had characterized her relationship with her overgrown frat-boy colleague as cantankerous, but his disturbing words seemed out of character — even with his reputation as a sleazy playboy. Shaking her head, she decided to worry about that later.

            Taking a calming breath, her pupils dilated as Tyler became trapped in her powerful gaze. “You will _never_ speak to me that way again. Whatever disgusting, creepy thoughts you have about me will disappear and from now on, you _will_ treat me with respect.” As Tyler mumbled her commands, she could feel her black veins threaten to surface as her fangs itched to tear through his pastel polo and dig deeply into his worthless throat. “Go. Away,” she snarled, fighting to calm down before she did something she would regret. Probably.

            As Tyler scurried away, still mumbling her words as an incoherent mantra, Caroline quickly raced the rest of the way to her office so she could safely get her rage under control. As she slammed the door shut, she rolled her eyes when she saw the sparkling red stilettos resting comfortably on top of her antique writing desk. Nodding at the bizarre fur pompoms adorning each ankle strap, she told Rebekah, “Did you seriously scalp Elmo to make a fashion statement?”

            Rebekah raised one carefully sculpted eyebrow. “These are Jimmy Choos. You’re such a _peasant_.” She folded her arms in front of her, adding “And you’re lucky I’m here instead of my brother. Nik would have made a bloody mess out of that tactless Neanderthal had he heard how Tyler propositioned you. Come to think of it, he probably would have slaughtered your boss for that thinly veiled threat as well.”

            Caroline sighed tiredly, flopping down in one of her comfortable blue armchairs. “So you heard all that. But you didn’t interfere — why,” she asked curiously.

            The other blonde opened her mouth, her pale blue eyes uncharacteristically uncertain. “It seems like you can handle yourself. I — I know what it’s like to feel overprotected and I thought you’d appreciate the opportunity to take care of things in your own way.”

            Caroline toyed with the scarred edge of the mahogany desk. “Thank you,” she answered quietly. “Everything is such a mess right now with my life and I know Klaus means well, but it’s nice to be reminded that I’m not entirely helpless. I was on my own for a long time.” Her blue eyes stung as she her breath hitched slightly, “I mean, I always had Stefan, but...I’m just not sure about things anymore.”

            The other girl ducked her head, twisting the intricately sculpted platinum band on her index finger. “When you and Klaus disappeared into that wretched stone, Stefan went out of his mind. You’re fortunate to have someone who cares so deeply about you. I’ve never had that kind of loyalty from another.”

            At Rebekah’s forlorn tone, Caroline said reassuringly, “But you have your brothers. And now, you even have Elijah back, so you guys can rebuild what you’ve lost. Plus, something tells me that Klaus won’t have the patience to introduce Elijah to all of the technology he’s missed.”

            Rebekah chuckled, “Yes, when I was ushering poor Elijah home last night, he was utterly flabbergasted by the ‘glowing miniature chalkboards’ people were using all around him. He thought I was jesting when I explained that while they were telephones, people rarely used them for that function.”

            Caroline gave a small chuckle as she imagined the Original trying to adjust to all of the changes society had undergone in the past century. She gave her a small smile. “Klaus hasn’t said much about his brother, but I can tell that he really missed him. Thank you for agreeing to be with me today so that he felt comfortable leaving me to spend time with Elijah.”

            “Of course. Nik doesn’t trust easily, but our family has been through a great deal and we are loyal to each other if nothing else.” Her tone sharpened as she stared at Caroline critically. “Nik has pledged his loyalty to you. I suggest you do not let him down.”

            Trying not to be offended by her mildly threatening tone, Caroline nodded. “I understand, Rebekah. I care a great deal about Klaus.” She couldn’t fight the blush that crept up her neck. “He’s in my heart.”

            Rebekah snickered. “You’re both pathetic. Nik wears that same dopey expression on his face whenever I ask him about you.” She unfolded her long legs from Caroline’s desk, planting both palms on the surface as she asked sarcastically, “Now, how long am I going to be trapped in this stuffy office while you waste my time puttering about with your tedious research?”

            Caroline rolled her eyes, getting to her feet as she straightened her daisy-print dress. “Actually, I think I’ve earned the rest of the day off. I’ll deal with the academic asshats in my life later.” Savoring the look of surprise upon Rebekah’s face, she winked, adding, “How about we go shopping instead and you can lecture me on everything that’s wrong with my wardrobe?”

            Clapping her hands excitedly, Rebekah followed her out of her office, already excitedly listing all of the exclusive boutiques they should go to for the full ‘VIP shopping experience’. However, both vampires halted in the middle of the hallway as they smelled the familiar, coppery odor that hung heavily in the air. _Blood_.

            Heart thudding in her chest, Caroline raced toward the scent, realizing that the odor grew stronger the closer she got to Alaric’s office. Their footsteps echoed down the empty hallway, and she threw caution to the wind as she used her supernatural speed to flash to his closed door. She faltered there, hesitating to open it. Finally, with Rebekah at her side, she grimly pushed open the paneled door, gasping at the dreadful sight that greeted her.   

            Alaric had been thrown against a tall wooden bookcase, his limbs twisted in unnatural angles. His signature tweed jacket was shredded and soaked in his blood as it pooled around him. The ragged hole in his throat exposed the pale cartilage of his windpipe. His flat, lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling while his mouth was wrenched open in a silent, agonizing scream.

            Caroline couldn’t tear her gaze away from the terrible scene. Her thoughts were racing as she realized why the wounds looked so familiar. They were bite marks _. Just like the ones Klaus received from the Yenaldooshi._     

 


	16. Vikings and Their Viking Stuff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys – big news! I won Best Comedy Author for the Klaroline Awards! I also was nominated for: Most Creative Author and Best Crime/Mystery/Thriller Fic - Cursed Obsession! I can’t tell you how much your support for all of my work has meant to me – thank you so much!!!

_White vinegar or cornstarch? And even then, once the bloodstain had set, it would be hopeless to remove completely. There would forever be a horrific pink halo marking the stains._ Caroline wasn’t sure why she was fixating on mentally trying to salvage Alaric’s hideous tweed jacket. Bloodstains aside, it had been shredded by claws. _From a Yenaldooshi_. Somehow, whoever was behind this was powerful enough to control a vicious skin-walker. But why go after Alaric? He was an ordinary, fairly dull human and while his idiotic, bureaucratic tendencies gave him tunnel-vision when it came to important university issues, it certainly didn’t justify his murder.

            “It’s me,” Caroline heard herself say in a harsh whisper as she pushed aside the gruesome images that kept playing in her mind on a continuous loop. “I was the last person to speak with Alaric before he was killed. All of the strange things that have happened — the break-in at my loft, the ritual being hijacked, my visions in the stone — I’m connected to all of it.” She rubbed her forehead tiredly as she said in defeat, “Whoever is behind this seems to want me involved. I just can’t figure out why.”

            Rebekah sighed from her perch on Caroline’s windowsill. She toyed with the delicate lavender blooms growing out of the small clay pot pushed to the side and said, “And rather than trying to solve this puzzle, you’re taking time out to compel your useless human?”

            Caroline felt a flash of anger at Rebekah’s words. She realized that when they first discovered Alaric’s body, she’d been acting on autopilot, first allowing Rebekah to flash them back to her office and then immediately calling her brothers. Klaus and Elijah likely were still in Alaric’s office, removing all evidence of the crime scene and compelling the necessary individuals to believe that the department head had taken a sabbatical. While she appreciated the pragmatism of the Originals, she refused to allow Matt to get hurt because of her.

            “Matt is _not_ useless,” she bit out angrily. “And he’s not your business.” She realized that part of her rage stemmed from the guilt of what she was about to do. She disliked the idea of stealing someone’s will and while she tried to justify compelling the morally corrupt, she couldn’t reconcile what she was about to do to Matt. He was a good person and she was about to cross a line that she couldn’t take back. However, before she could wallow any longer in self-pity, a swift knock on her office door interrupted her troubled thoughts.   

            “Hey, Caroline, you said you wanted to see me,” Matt greeted her, his worn olive green backpack slung over one shoulder as he regarded her with concern. “Is everything ok? You sounded weird on the phone.”

            Caroline forced herself to smile brightly, standing up from her desk as she shook her head. “Everything’s fine, Matty.” When she caught the way his gaze flickered to Rebekah briefly before shyly looking away, she explained, “This is Rebekah...um, a consultant we’re using for an independent study group.”

            He favored the Original with a gentle smile that seemed to catch her off-guard. “Very pleased to meet you, ma’am. May I ask what area your expertise is in?”

            Rebekah awkwardly shifted on her perch, and Caroline couldn’t help but enjoy the way her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the boy’s attention. “Vikings,” she finally stuttered with her voice going up an octave as though she was asking a question, “Vikings...and you know, their Viking stuff that we...I mean _they_ did,” she rambled, her knee jiggling enough to knock off one of her outlandish red stilettos.

            Matt immediately bent down to pick it up, helping her slide it back on her twitching foot without comment. While he was occupied, Caroline took the opportunity to mouth, ‘Vikings and their Viking stuff’ to Rebekah, who sent a searing glare her way as her face turned beet red.

            “Vikings, huh? I actually don’t know much about them. I’ve always been curious about how accurate that TV show is,” Matt commented, checking his watch and adding, “I’m supposed to be meeting April after her class gets out in the next twenty minutes. Do I need to let her know I’ll be running late, Caroline,” he asked with a frown.

            Caroline felt a pang at his question, momentarily forgetting about the girl he’d been seeing for the past few years. While she’d never met April, she knew how much Matt liked her. He would mention her off and on with the sweetest smile on his face, and there was the cutest picture of the two of them on his phone, from the time that she competed for county fair queen. _And now, she was compelling him to leave_.

            Sighing, she allowed her pupils to dilate, capturing his faded blue eyes with her hypnotic gaze until the poor boy swayed slightly on his feet. “Matty,” she began brokenly, “you’ve just received a research grant to join the Manteño settlements dig site in Ecuador. You’ll be the assistant to the project consultant, Dr. Gilbert. You’re very excited about this opportunity and even though it’s a year-long commitment, you’ll find that Dr. Gilbert will be surprisingly supportive of giving you time off to finish your dissertation.”  

            She despised the perfectly blank look on Matt’s normally expressive face and felt sickened by what she was doing. “You’ll be safe,” she continued, unable to stop the lone tear that escaped, “and you’ll have a brilliant career and a beautiful life.” As she finished, Matt repeated her words back as the compulsion took root within his psyche. He sent her a confused look before hitching his backpack up higher on his shoulder, nodding respectfully at both women before he left.

            Caroline’s office door had barely closed before she felt more tears fall. _It was for his own good. Someone was after her and he could get hurt_. _It was necessary_. Remembering that Rebekah was still in the room, she quickly swiped at her damp cheeks and said, “Do you think your brothers are nearly finished in Alaric’s office? Jenna and Jesse asked me to stop by the shelter.”

            Rebekah gave her an unreadable look, but nodded briskly and said, “Let’s go find out.” She walked briskly across the office, pausing at the door to say quietly, “What you did for Matt...it was a kindness.”

            Caroline gave her a small smile, but didn’t trust herself to speak at the moment. As the women left Caroline’s office, she inwardly groaned as she spied Tyler standing awkwardly in the hallway near her door. At first, she was confused by the way his face seemed to light up when he saw her, until she recalled how she had compelled him to treat her with respect. _She also came to the uncomfortable realization that she was a hypocrite_.

            She couldn’t feel guilty about taking away Matt’s free will when on the same day she also had taken away Tyler’s. Sure, when she’d run into Tyler, she’d been fresh from her awful meeting with Alaric and Tyler had been especially creepy, but she didn’t have the right to compel just because she was angry. Smiling awkwardly at him, she said, “Hey, Tyler, were you needing something? I was just heading out.”

            Tyler walked beside her, only giving Rebekah a casual sweep of interest before focusing on Caroline once more. He answered eagerly, “Listen, Caroline, after our talk earlier, I realized how much I admire and respect you and I dunno, I’d really like to spend some time with you. What are you doing tonight?”

            “She’s busy. And as far as you’re concerned, mate, should be considered busy from now on until the universe crumbles around us,” Klaus wryly interrupted, suddenly appearing before them and compelling Tyler to stop pursuing Caroline and to return to his office.

            As Tyler left, Caroline hissed at Klaus, “Why did you do that? I already compelled Tyler earlier.”

            Klaus smugly replied, “Well, you obviously didn’t do it right, love.”

            She rolled her eyes, muttering, “Whatever.” Gesturing down the hall toward Alaric’s office, she asked lowly, “Is it done?”

            “Almost. I was coming to ask you to help Elijah finish straightening up Alaric’s office while I go to the dean to ensure he believes this sabbatical ruse. Then, once all of the proper documents have been filed, the authorities will be able to trace the extended vacation that Alaric will take before it’s reported that he suffered an unfortunate accident in some remote location and the body cannot be recovered. While his family won’t have remains to bury, at least they’ll know that he’s gone.” He seemed to notice her discomfort and said more gently, “The last thing we need is for the supernatural element to be exposed. I wish there was another way, but this is necessary.”

            “Necessary,” Caroline repeated in a hollow voice. “So, I’ll go help Elijah then. Rebekah should probably go with you though — the dean is a notorious womanizing creeper and he’ll be so distracted by her that you can convince him to sign whatever forms you put in front of his wrinkled old face and he won’t bother reading them first. You could probably set his office on fire and he wouldn’t notice.” While they agreed with her plan, they still insisted on walking her the rest of the way to Alaric’s paneled office door before taking off, and she took a shaky breath as she steeled herself to face the room where she discovered his body.

            Squaring her shoulders, she pushed open the door and her eyes immediately went to the tall wooden bookcase where his body had been thrown. Books that had been scattered during the altercation had been placed back on the shelves, and she realized that the dusty, striped rug had been removed. It had been underneath the body where most of the blood had pooled. She noticed that the spray of blood that had painted a horizontal line of gore across one wall had been scrubbed and now Elijah was painting over it with gray paint to match the rest of the space.

            Without turning around, he said quietly, “Niklaus will have the dean file whatever tedious paperwork is needed to have maintenance repaint the entire office, but I thought it best not to leave evidence behind of why it needed to be repainted.” His tone was halting, as though he was still getting used to his voice once more. “This must be quite...jarring for you. Was this man a friend?”

            Caroline opened her mouth, unsure of what to say. She finally settled on, “He was a colleague and the head of the history department. I honestly didn’t know him that well. The way he died...it wasn’t right. No one deserves what happened to him.”

            “Are you sure,” he asked, setting down the paintbrush with a faraway look in his dark eyes. “I felt those same claws for a century. But more than that, I constantly was reminded of my past horrors. The things I’ve done — you cannot imagine.” He shook his head in defeat, whispering, “Sometimes the punishment is just.”

            “No,” she said in a strangled voice, her heart breaking as she caught the way the Original twitched at her loud voice as though he was waiting for some unspeakable vision to torment him once again. Forcing herself to speak more calmly, she said, “Whatever you’ve done — it’s done and there’s nothing you can do about that. But you have people who love you and hated every moment they were forced to spend away from you.”

            She bowed her head, suddenly shy as she added, “I’m proof that you’ve done some good in this world. You came across a dying human in a dark alley one night and you saved her without hesitating. You didn’t know me and you fed me your blood to heal me. You saved me, Elijah. I owe you for the extraordinary life I’ve led; thank you for the wonderful gift you’ve given me.”  

            The look on his face was unreadable, but he seemed to be struggling within himself as though he wanted to protest her claims. He finally nodded and replied, “You have a kind soul. I am indescribably pleased that Niklaus has chosen you.”

            Feeling an embarrassed flush creep of her neck, she busied herself with unnecessarily rearranging some of Alaric’s books, smoothing down the crinkled pages. “I don’t know what’s going on there, but we’ve shared a lot together in a short amount of time,” she answered lightly.

            Elijah straightened, wiping off a few gray paint splatters with an old towel. “Forgive me — I didn’t mean to intrude upon private matters between you and Niklaus.” As though a thought struck him, his lips curved into a slight smile and his dark eyes seemed to come alive as he said, “While we’re waiting, perhaps we could finish our conversation about Obeah customs in the 17th century? I was in St. Kitts in the 1650s and have many strong opinions about scholars’ portrayal of feminine power from that time period that I would enjoy arguing with you about.”

            She was grateful to him for recognizing her discomfort and a delighted giggle escaped her and she settled into a chair to have a spirited discussion with the Original.

* * *

 

            Later that day, after Klaus and Rebekah had returned, Klaus had accompanied her to the shelter where Jenna and Jesse had surprised her with the news that Jenna was pregnant, and that if the baby was a girl, they planned on naming her Caroline. She had barely kept her tears under control as she hugged them both, telling them how honored she was.

            Once she and Klaus returned to her loft, she still felt a sliver of irritation at his behavior. “What the hell was that at the shelter?”

            “What do you mean,” Klaus asked stiffly, folding his arms in front of his chest as he leaned against the wide ledge of her balcony.

            “I mean the way you were practically snarling at Jenna and Jesse every time they tried to pull me into another room! You can’t act like a possessive asshat around them — they’ll worry about me!” She stomped her bare foot in frustration, making the iron table and chairs rattle.

            Klaus growled, “They were behaving strangely from the moment we arrived, and were clearly displeased that I had accompanied you. It was incredibly suspicious how they kept trying to lure you away from me. We have to be on guard!”

            “They’re pregnant and didn’t want to share something so personal with a complete stranger, Klaus! It’s perfectly reasonable that they’d want to tell me in private,” she responded with an aggravated sigh. She could feel herself getting wound up again from the day’s events, but realized that she couldn’t fault his paranoia. “Look, I understand why you’re upset, and I promise that we’re in this together. I just need you to tone it down around the humans in my life, ok?”

            He seemed to note the way her voice wavered at the end, and he quickly enveloped her in a hug as he said quietly, “You’re upset about your student. What you had to do today.”

            She brushed back some of her messy curls, breathing in his reassuring, familiar smells of cedar and citrus. “Yes,” she croaked, “I hate that I had to compel Matt away for his safety, but then I saw Jenna and Jesse and hated that I couldn’t do the same to them. They’re around me all the time too and could be in danger because of me. But I can’t uproot their lives as easily as I did Matt’s. They have ties to this community and they’re so dedicated to the shelter. I can’t take that away from them.”

            “You do what is best for the people you care about, sweetheart. There’s no shame in that,” he ventured, running a comforting hand down her back. “And the people who care about you are doing everything they can to protect you. Bonnie is researching the Phoenix Stone’s ritual with Elijah and Rebekah to see if they can figure out a way to trace the magic used to alter the spell back to our unknown enemy.”

            “And we should be over there helping them,” she muttered.

            “Not tonight, love. It will keep. You’ve had an upsetting day and therefore deserve a bit of peace before we jump back into the fray,” he admonished with a gentle kiss placed on top of her head.

            Caroline sighed, pulling away slightly to regard him with worry in her blue eyes. “The fray. Where an unknown supernatural force is powerful enough to control a Yenaldooshi and summon it to murder someone without two vampires down the hall hearing a thing. Where someone is stalking me and hurting those around me and I have to be suspicious of everyone in my life.”

            “You’re not alone, love. We’ll figure this out together,” he vowed, the steel in his eyes prominent as he tried in vain to chase away her fears. He ducked his curly head, pulling her into a gentle kiss that wrapped her in his warmth and made her almost forget her pain. Just as she started to sink into his strong body, they jolted apart as a loud pounding on her front door startled them.

            They went to the door; Klaus stubbornly pushing her behind him as he cautiously opened it to find a frazzled Stefan standing in her hallway. “What do you want,” he barked at the vampire, fists curling as though preparing to fight.

            “Klaus,” she said sharply, touching his shoulder to get his attention. She couldn’t help but see the fear in Stefan’s brown eyes and the way his entire frame was tense let her know that he was here to tell her something important. “Let’s hear what he has to say,” she commanded, pulling him away from the door so that Stefan could enter. She caught the flash of gratitude on Stefan’s face, and she felt herself soften slightly toward her old friend. She was still angry at his betrayal and knew that their friendship would never be the same, but in that moment, her concern for him overtook whatever animosity she felt.

            Klaus kept one arm possessively slung around her waist, angling his body so that it was slightly in front of hers as he addressed Stefan. “Go on, then. Speak.”

            “I just came from the campus. I stopped by Petrova Hall to check on you after what happened with Alaric when I smelled...” he broke off, shaking his head as his said, “there was just so much blood. I have no idea how none of the humans could smell it. I followed the smell and it led me to Tyler’s office.” He took a reluctant breath as though trying to prepare her for the worst. “Tyler’s dead, Caroline.”

            She blinked, trying to process the weight of Stefan’s words. Numb, she heard herself say, “We need to call everyone and meet them at the school. It’s late, so we’ll just need to deal with security while we...while we clean up.”

            Stefan opened his mouth reluctantly, fidgeting slightly in that endearing way of his that in the past she knew was his signal that he had more bad news to share but didn’t know how she’d take it. “What is it, Stefan,” she asked carefully, feeling the way Klaus’ arm tightened around her as though he could somehow protect her from whatever else Stefan had to say.

            “I don’t know how to tell you this,” Stefan faltered, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. “Damon’s back, Caroline.”


	17. It was Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Thank you for your support! Also, thanks for sending me all of your guesses about who’s behind everything and what’s going to happen next! Some of you may have gotten really close to the truth, so hopefully you’ll still be somewhat surprised by the way things unfold!
> 
> Warning: Sexy-times included!

           The confident slide of Klaus’ thumb as it traced Caroline’s bare calf was more than a little distracting. She was stretched out on the floor of her study, reexamining the piles of Phoenix Stone research that was spread before her. “I’m a little surprised by how disorganized Matt’s notes are for a few of these topic sections,” she commented. Raising a critical brow, she added, “He completely misfiled this folklore anecdote that implies the Anasazi shamans often used the stone as an anchor for their powers.”

            Klaus placed a gentle kiss at her bent knee, raising his gray eyes to hers as he suggested thoughtfully, “Perhaps this is a side effect of the urgency with which you compelled him to leave? You always boast about what a careful student he is, so perhaps he didn’t have time to properly prepare his notes before he left?”

            She rolled her eyes and grumbled good-naturedly, “Fine, if you want to be all reasonable about it.” When she had first started pawing through her research, it had been as a way to distract herself from her racing thoughts after they returned from handling the aftermath of Tyler’s murder.

            Fortunately, when their group had arrived late last night, the campus was nearly deserted and they easily slipped past the handful of security guards who had been half-heartedly patrolling the grounds. Caroline and Stefan had explained to the group that the Lockwoods were a well-connected family within their town, which meant that trying to pass off the murder as a simple animal attack would raise far too many questions that the family’s resources would endlessly pick at and there was a small possibility that they could stumble onto certain supernatural truths that no one wanted revealed. After much debate, they decided that the best way to handle Tyler’s murder was to compel the correct people into believing that he had joined Alaric on his sabbatical because they were co-researching a project. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but they were fairly confident that the remoteness of the location coupled with the lack of infrastructure would help to camouflage the truth from humans.

            She could still smell the sourness of the spilled blood and the way his mangled corpse already had begun to rot. Her thoughts shifted back to the disturbing image of Tyler’s face clawed beyond recognition with his eyes savagely ripped from their sockets. It seemed as though the Yenaldooshi put on an even more violent display with Tyler than Alaric. Almost as though it was angrier at Tyler — but why? Yes, he had been an annoying prick, but it certainly didn’t warrant this level of violence. Besides, she had just compelled him into being an infinitely better version of himself and he had even been respectful when he asked her out. _When he asked her out_. Shit. That thought left her cold as she realized that there was every possibility that whoever was behind everything may have overheard Tyler rudely proposition her earlier and then continue to pursue her later on.

            “You shouldn’t be here, Klaus,” Caroline mumbled sadly, unable to look at him. “Clearly Tyler was killed because he tried to get close to me. It’s obvious that you and I have grown close and it’s just a matter of time before whatever evil bastard is behind all of this comes after you.” She finally lifted her gaze, feeling her heart clench painfully as she said brokenly, “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

            His hand stilled where it had been rubbing soothing circles down her back. A quick glance at the hybrid showed him to be carrying on a silent struggle within himself. Finally, he seemed to settle upon the words he wished to say and he cautiously revealed, “It would hurt me more to leave, sweetheart.”

            With his confession, Caroline was able to push aside the terrible memories of the recent murders and her complicated feelings about Damon’s return that she hadn’t even begun to process and instead she pulled Klaus on top of her, kissing him with an intensity that seemed to match his own. He moaned into their kiss, holding her tightly against his powerful body as though afraid she could be pried from his grasp.

            She cupped his jaw with both hands, gazing into her gray eyes and feeling a thrill of anticipation travel down her spine as they flickered his signature wolf gold. She pulled off his charcoal henley, tossing it to the side in her frenzy to run her hands appreciatively over the smooth skin of his back. She loved the way his muscles flexed beneath her fingers, and could feel his need for her growing as he ground against her.

            Klaus took her by surprise by using his hybrid speed to flip them over, positioning her so that she straddled his bare chest. His hands gripped her thighs, pushing up the short hem of her silk caftan until he could see her center. His smirk grew as he felt how slick she was from the slightest of touches, and with a sexy growl, he commanded, “Ride my tongue.”

            The forcefulness of his words tinged with blatant desire caused her core to throb almost painfully, and she quickly slid up his tense body, parting her thighs over his eager lips. That first searing touch of his tongue against her clit sent her reeling, banging her knees into the pine floor as she found herself already begging him for more.

            He groaned at the taste of her, his hands grabbing her ass as she rocked against his clever tongue. The sweet pinch of his fangs as he scraped them against her folds had her shrieking his name, writhing in ecstasy as he began to drink from her like a man possessed. She had barely come down from her high when he roughly turned her until she was on all fours, groaning as he rubbed his denim-covered erection against her quivering center.

            The clink of his belt and the harsh purr of his zipper being undone caused her to make a low, needy whine in the back of her throat, pushing back against him until she found him hot and standing at attention for her. He rubbed his damp tip against the cleft of her ass, mingling their arousal as he rumbled possessively, “Mine. All mine.”

            “Yes,” she panted, her nails scoring deep grooves into the floor planks as she told him, “yours, Klaus, yes!”

            He slid into her easily, snapping his hips as he set a punishing pace. Every thrust caused her to throw her head back and moan loudly, inviting him to grab at her blonde curls as they bounced along her back. She clenched around him, feeling herself grow close once again as his movements became wild and reckless. When he hoarsely cried out, she followed his release, collapsing against him in a heap on her floor.

            Caroline and Klaus glanced at each other, taking in their disheveled, sweaty appearances and smiled softly in perfect contentment as they basked in the cool breeze that drifted in from the open windows.

            They were so thoroughly enraptured with each other, they didn’t realize they had an attentive audience, one who had listened to every moment of their passionate interlude with fists clenched in anger.

            _The numerous warnings had been ignored. Caroline still didn’t understand. With a sigh of regret, the lone figure swiftly walked away._ _It was time._

* * *

 

            Later that day, Rebekah was walking Caroline toward Petrova Hall for a department meeting to discuss appointing a temporary department head while Alaric was on sabbatical. Caroline wasn’t sure how she was going to get through the meeting with the intense guilt she felt for what had happened to Alaric and Tyler. As though sensing she needed a distraction, Rebekah observed wryly, “You do realize that no amount of hasty showering this morning can overpower the stench of non-stop sweat-soaked shagging you and Nik have been doing, right?”

            Feeling herself blush, Caroline answered defensively, “It wasn’t _that_ much sex. Earlier, Klaus had casually mentioned that we should look for other, more benign research avenues to publish publicly to keep my academic reputation intact and then we got to talking about the notable differences in Viking burials, like how Icelandic burials typically have the body on its back while in Scandinavian countries, the body often is positioned on its side which led to Klaus reminiscing about the symbolism of the...” she trailed off awkwardly as she caught the amused expression on the Original’s face. “One thing just led to another,” she muttered, pointedly staring ahead at the carefully manicured lawn.

            “Bloody hell, that has to be the most pathetic instance of foreplay in the history of sex,” she told Caroline with a teasing gleam in her pale blue eyes. She shook her head, frowning a bit as though a thought just occurred to her. Clearing her throat, she said in an oddly high-pitched voice, “Maybe Matt would be interested in hearing about the Vikings. I mean, we _do_ need to keep up the ruse that I’m a consultant here.”

            Caroline paused to wave to a group of her former students who were sitting under a striped cafe umbrella near the main courtyard, before letting out a small giggle at Rebekah’s embarrassingly obvious seduction strategy. “Oh, you mean you want to talk to him about ‘Vikings and their Viking stuff’ again?” She hitched her canvas tote a bit further on her shoulder, her tone more introspective as she offered, “Matt’s a great guy. A great, _human_ guy, and I would worry about introducing him into our world. It’s just so dangerous. That’s why I compelled him to go on that dig site so he would be far away from here.”

            When she noticed the flash of sadness in Rebekah’s eyes, she quickly added, “But who knows? Maybe after all of this is over, we’ll see what happens.” As they mounted the steps of Petrova Hall, she held up a finger threateningly as she warned the Original, “But, from what he’s told me off and on, he and April seem like a solid couple, and I better not hear about you doing _anything_ to scare off your competition!”

            Rebekah gave her a mischievous smile and responded with, “Fine. But you didn’t say I couldn’t at least _research_ my competition.” She started to say something else, but was interrupted by her phone ringing. Making an aggravated noise, she groaned and said, “It’s Elijah. He’d called Nik earlier because he claimed the ‘infernal glowing miniature chalkboard’ wasn’t giving him the right directions to Bonnie’s house and had become hopelessly lost. Nik left to go find him but now he’s telling me Nik still hasn’t found him. I better take this before both of my brothers end up in the Bermuda Triangle.” She wandered away, already loudly berating Elijah.

            Caroline rolled her eyes at the siblings and pushed open the door to the building when she felt a terrible coldness sweep over body as she realized she was being watched. Suddenly, a powerful blur gripped her forearms and she was flashed into the narrow alley between the theater and Petrova Hall. Gasping for breath as her heart beat a rapid tattoo in her chest, she fearfully registered that her assailant was Damon. Ever since Stefan had told her that Damon was back, she had stubbornly pushed her complicated feelings about him away, telling herself that with some unknown evil doer after her, the last thing she had time for was dealing with the asshat who had attacked her a century ago.

            Now, she had no choice but to face her troubled past head-on as it was obvious that Damon was here for a reason. She took in his overly pale visage, how his cheekbones were sharp angles much like the rest of him, as though his entire body was a series of hard-edged weapons. From the way his oily black locks were standing in disarray along with the unfocused, wild look in his dark eyes, she realized that he was flying high on more than just an unsuspecting coed’s blood.

            “Blondie,” he cooed in a creepy voice she assumed he thought sounded seductive, “I’ve been looking, looking, looky-loo looking for you just _all_ over town.” He leaned in far too close, and she caught a whiff of what smelled like rotted meat and a sharper odor she couldn’t quite identify. As though he could read her confusion, he explained offhandedly, “I’m chasing the dragon with a lil’ Indian red scorpion.”

            Wrinkling her nose in disgust, she backed away from him, shaking her head in disbelief as she said, “You’re seriously mixing heroin with venom from the most lethal scorpion in the world? What the hell is wrong with you?!”

            Her yelling unfortunately seemed to give him focus and he took measured steps toward her until their faces were inches apart. His voice was a harsh whisper as he told her, “ _Everything_ is wrong in my hell, Blondie. And it’s _your_ fault, so now I’ve got to fix it.” He cocked his head to the side, a sleazy grin slithering across his pale face as he asked, “Steffy called me up all crying and drunk and I just _knew_ it was your fault.”

            She shivered, doing her best not to panic as she realized she was in an alley with Damon. _Like_ _the one he attacked her in so long ago_. He kept muttering incoherently about how things were _her_ fault, but that wasn’t right. _No_. It was _his_ fault. All of it. _And it was time he paid_. With an unearthly shriek that seemed to startle them both, she threw a punch with all the supernatural force she could muster, catching him in the nose with a satisfying crunch.

            As Damon doubled over, cursing and bleeding, she took the opportunity to give him a swift uppercut, sending more of his blood flying through the alley. “ _You_ attacked me, you worthless piece of shit! You left me for dead — you and your brother!” As she stood over the pathetic vampire, no longer afraid, she hissed, “It’s _your_ fault, Damon. Not mine.”

            Before Damon could respond, Stefan suddenly appeared, looking angrier than Caroline had ever seen him before. “Don’t you fucking touch her! Don’t you _ever_ come near her again, Damon,” he bellowed, flashing over to his brother who was now kneeling on the blood-speckled ground. He lashed out with his heavy hiking boot, catching Damon in his lower belly where he could do the most damage. His brown eyes, normally so gentle, seemed crazed as he went after his brother with single-minded determination.

            Damon managed to stumble to his feet, wheezing and spitting out a mouthful of blood as he yelled, “I came here for you! Because you said she was everything good in you and then she took it away. That she found out what I did and what you did and so I came here to fix it for you! To make her forgive you.”  

            The disgust on Stefan’s face matched her own, and while she struggled to find a response to Damon’s rambling, Stefan told him in a tone threaded with raw, ugly emotion, “You can’t force someone to forgive you. After what we’ve done, we don’t _deserve_ Caroline’s forgiveness. I never want to see you again, Damon. And if you come near Caroline again, I _will_ kill you.”

            Damon’s dark eyes widened at the conviction powering Stefan’s speech, and he sent a final glare at Caroline before he wordlessly flashed away. She opened her mouth and then quickly closed it, unsure of what to say to Stefan. As they stood together awkwardly in the narrow alley, she realized she still wasn’t comfortable being alone with him. Was it her own paranoia from everything that had happened or something more?

            Stefan sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly. “He won’t bother you again, Caroline. I’ll see to it.”

            As he started to flash away, she finally found her voice. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

            He nodded and told her, “I’m going to go check his usual haunts around town. I want to make sure he’s really gone.”

            Once he left, Rebekah unexpectedly called out cheerfully, “Well that was bloody intense. I say, college is considerably more exciting than I realized.”

            Letting out a huff of annoyance, Caroline whirled around to face the Original. “Some guard dog. You just left me alone in an alley with my attacker?!”

            Rebekah shrugged, sweeping her eyes critically over her form as though searching for injuries. “You had it under control. I was getting ready to step in when you surprised us all by oddly screeching like a banshee and then giving him a right thrashing. You nearly made me proud.”

            “Thanks,” Caroline answered somewhat unsteadily as she looked around the alley for her dropped tote bag that had started ringing. Locating it, she reached inside for her phone and was surprised to see it was Dr. Gilbert, the project consultant on Matt’s dig site, calling her. “Hey there, Dr. Gilbert. Is Matt settling in okay down there?”

            His worried voice sent her panicking. “Actually that’s why I was calling, Caroline. Matt still hasn’t arrived and his plane should’ve arrived in Ecuador yesterday.”

            Rebekah’s concerned face matched her own and she shut her eyes as she summoned a calm, even tone that she did not feel as she told him, “I’m sure it was probably just some sort of mix-up. You know how it goes with college kids. I’ll track him down and put him on the next available flight. Thanks for calling.” She hung up before she did something stupid like waste time by bursting into tears.

            “Surely you don’t think...” Rebekah trailed off helplessly as she started nervously chewing on her bottom lip.

            “Let’s not think anything yet,” Caroline responded urgently. “We’re going to compel Matt’s address from the admissions office and see if we can figure out what’s happened to him.”

* * *

 

            Matt lived in a row of student apartments bordering the edge of campus. As they walked into the tiny foyer of the apartment building, Rebekah took in the threadbare surroundings and sniffed disdainfully, “This must be where IKEA furniture goes to die.”

            Raising a critical eyebrow, Caroline said, “Okay, first of all, wildly inappropriately judgyness given the situation and second, cheap, pre-fab furniture without any soul is _your_ people’s legacy, not mine.”

            “I’ll have you know that the Vikings were superior wood carvers,” she sputtered defensively as they ran up the groaning metal staircase. “Also, I tend to make jokes when I’m...” she trailed off uncertainly.

            “I know, me too,” Caroline answered in a hushed voice as they came to a halt in front of what should have been Matt’s front door.

            Instead, a clawed and partially chewed door panel greeted them. Caroline felt the first wave of nausea overtake her as she smelled the blood.   


	18. They Crossed the Threshold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all of the reviews and questions you sent my way with the last chapter! I’m thrilled you guys are so excited about where the story is heading!

_Iron and copper were such hateful smells_. As much as Caroline’s vampiric nature reveled in the rich, sharp taste of blood, she couldn’t stop the wave of nausea that washed over her at the thought that what she was smelling may belong to someone she deeply cared about. Humans were such a fragile species, and the Yenaldooshi possessed raw, vicious power that easily could rip apart the delicate layers of humanity. _Almost as vicious as the mystery person controlling the beast_.

            Caroline watched Rebekah clench her jaw, bravely placing her hand on Matt’s ruined door in between the wide swaths of splattered blood. She didn’t miss the slight tremble of her fingers as she pushed it open, though. Fearing the worst, the two women hesitantly crossed the threshold and Caroline immediately felt tears run down her cheeks at what it meant. _They crossed the threshold_. Vampires only could cross the threshold of a home if the human resident was dead. She let out a strangled sob as she realized that Matt was gone.

            Rebekah put her hand to her mouth as she seemed in shock, taking in the silver shards of broken mirror, shredded carpet and overturned furniture that appeared to have been broken by a sledgehammer. Caroline took a shaky breath, briefly squeezing the Original’s hand before she let go to search the small apartment.

            She could feel her heart breaking at the awful task before her, but finding Matt’s body and laying him to rest respectfully was something she had to do. _She owed him that much_. She stepped carefully over the pools of blood, the furious claw marks that tore at the surroundings removing her final hope that her sweet human hadn’t suffered. A fresh, hot surge of anger coursed through her body at the thought of whoever was controlling the Yenaldooshi seemed to especially want poor Matt to suffer. _But why?_   

            The apartment was miniscule and took her little time to realize that Matt’s body wasn’t there. _What the hell was going on?_ Had his murderer removed it for some darker purpose? Rebekah’s voice shattered the unnatural quiet of the chaotic scene. “Matt’s not here. Is it possible he’s still alive then?”

            Caroline hated the tiny flicker of hope that warmed her heart. It was foolish to indulge in it and would only hurt more when it proved to be false. She shook her head sadly, surveying the horrific remnants of the supernatural struggle. “How could he be, Rebekah? Even if he somehow miraculously survived this brutal attack, we were able to cross the threshold of his home without an invitation.” She rubbed her forehead and she added quietly. “You know what that means.”

            “Yeah,” Rebekah said hoarsely as she turned away from her, pretending that she wasn’t swiping at a tear. Clearing her throat, she peered closely at a narrow shelf attached to the wall and asked, “I don’t see any photos — does he have...did he have family?”

            Caroline frowned, trying to recall what little she knew about his background. “I know Matt’s mother passed away when he was younger, and I don’t think he has anyone else.” She let out a ragged breath, “Had.” She quickly shook her head, fighting another wave of sorrow that would have left her paralyzed if she allowed it. _Mourn later. Fight now_. “Let’s get out of here. There’s nothing for us to deal with, so we need to not be here when clueless humans find this mess.”

            Rebekah nodded in agreement, and as they moved back down the narrow hallway, she suddenly turned to Caroline, alarm registering in her pale blue eyes. “Elijah told me that Nik never arrived. What if...” she trailed off helplessly, pulling out her phone and immediately calling Klaus. Caroline did the same, and both women allowed them to ring until they worryingly went to voicemail. Rebekah quickly dialed Elijah, barking, “Is Nik there?”

            Caroline could hear that the Original seemed unusually flustered and even appeared to be panting. “Oh...actually, no...Niklaus never arrived, sister.” He hastily added, “Actually, I was in the middle of...that is to say that we...I mean, _I_ am otherwise engaged at the moment.”

            Rebekah arched an eyebrow, her concern for Klaus fading somewhat as she asked suspiciously, “Elijah, did I catch you in the middle of a shag?”

            As Elijah sputtered, trying to come up with a dignified response to Rebekah’s bawdy question, Caroline furrowed her brow, recalling something. “Wait a minute! Elijah was on his way to Bonnie’s...” She raised her voice so Bonnie would hear her say, “Bonnie Bennett, since when did your hocus-pocus turn into _Original_ hanky-panky?”

            Rebekah’s lips curled into a smile until Elijah asked impatiently, “Is it possible that you could continue your search for Niklaus elsewhere?”

            As Elijah inadvertently reminded them of their concerns, both women sobered. Rebekah quickly explained, “Caroline and I discovered her student’s apartment has been ripped apart and we believe the Yenaldoosh has killed him. We’re concerned that Nik’s sudden absence indicates something has happened to him too.”

            The way Rebekah’s voice wavered at the end caused Caroline’s own breath to hitch as she tried to block her grim thoughts of what might have happened to Klaus to cause him to not answer his phone. Normally, if Caroline called him, his response was instant, as he was always on edge with the recent chaotic events. The fact that he hadn’t answered sent her into a panic and she knew she wouldn’t be able to breathe again until she saw for herself that he was alright.

            Elijah’s authoritative voice brooked no argument as he commanded, “Do nothing to engage this enemy, Rebekah. Miss Bennett and I are out of town, but we’ll return by nightfall. Strength in numbers is best in the face of an unknown force and we’ll search for Niklaus together.”

            Caroline’s nose wrinkled as Rebekah hung up the phone. “Well, fuck that,” she announced, crossing her arms in front of her chest stubbornly.

            “Agreed,” Rebekah sniffed, pulling Caroline toward the flashy silver sports car she took particular delight in careening dangerously around curves with Caroline gripping the black leather interior with white knuckles. Now, Caroline was grateful for the careless way the Original drove, willing her to go faster even as she also wanted to delay the inevitable. _What would they find? And could she handle whatever it was?_

            As she revved the engine until it roared, Rebekah huffed, “Stop it, Caroline. Just bloody stop.”

            Defensive, Caroline grit her teeth. “What? I’m worried. You’re worried. We’ve both earned that right when it comes to Klaus.” She ran her hands through her wild mane of blonde curls, pulling on the ends nervously. “I’m sure it’s fine — he’s probably just in the shower or something and we’ll all feel ridiculous when we get there.”

            Her friend remained silent, her icy blue gaze trained on the brick-lined street of Klaus’ quaint neighborhood, sharply turning into a corner as her hands gripped the wheel until the leather split along one edge.

            Nervously tracing her finger along the delicate red stitching of the seat, Caroline whispered, “I just...need to know he’s ok. I can’t lose him too.”

            “I know,” came Rebekah’s reassuring reply.

            When Klaus’ sleek glass and steel building came into view, both women tensed, eyes like lasers as though they could ascertain any foul-play from the parking lot. The ride in the elevator was fraught with tension as their minds raced, both alternately calling Klaus’ phone without success. They braced themselves as they walked to the door to his penthouse, and looked on in confusion when they realized it was missing. Hearing the telltale crunching of glass underneath her gray suede boot, Caroline frowned, realizing that Klaus’ elegant glass door had been completely shattered.

            It felt as though all of the air had been sucked out of the room as she carefully walked across the marble foyer with trepidation. She only had been to Klaus’ penthouse a handful of times, always preferring her loft where the majority of her research was stored. She always argued with him that she never knew when inspiration would strike and she often made research breakthroughs in the middle of the night. Her eyes immediately were drawn to the limestone fireplace, and she found herself lost in the salacious memories it invoked.

            _The back of her sweat-soaked thighs touched the cool limestone of the wide hearth as she pulled Klaus on top of her. He growled low as his teeth nipped at her pulse point. “Need you, sweetheart. Now.”_

_She moaned at the desperation of his tone, shifting her hips to sensually rub against him. She placed her hands upon his face, relishing in the familiar scratchiness of his stubble. Staring deeply into his gray eyes now flecked with wolf gold, she murmured, “Just as I need you. Always.”_

_She only had a moment to register the raw emotion she saw reflected in his expression before he surged forward, fusing their bodies together as he kissed her with fierce determination._

Caroline was shaken from her memories as Rebekah began to hoarsely call for her brother, racing from room to room, leaving Caroline alone in her growing panic. Her blue eyes widened as she spied rivulets of blood dripping down one corner of the chiseled limestone, forming a grisly pool. In a daze, she turned to survey the rest of the room, taking in the overturned sofa and splintered coffee table, vicious claw marks scored deeply down the middle. A smashed clock near the blood-stained rug caught her attention, and as she bent down to gingerly pick up the pieces, she couldn’t stop her tears.

            The antique mantle clock had been in Klaus’ possession since the 1950s, when he thought he tracked down the Phoenix Stone only to find the timepiece instead. A witch’s locator spell managed to find the object that used to contain the artifact — a hidden compartment at the bottom of the mantle clock revealed that at one time, the stone had been hidden there. He confessed to Caroline that he had been full of despair, decades of his brother being lost to him and he feared the worst. The small mantle clock gave him hope that the stone was out there, just beyond his grasp, and one day, he would reunite his family. He kept the timepiece all these years, as a symbol of his pledge.

            As she felt the jagged shards of the ruined porcelain face bite into her palm, she cried out, a pitiful wail that tore at her soul. Rebekah’s anger at being unable to find Klaus echoed down the hall, fueling Caroline’s chaotic thoughts until all she could feel was the ruined pieces of the clock. With a high-pitched shriek, she hurled the pieces at a blood-splattered wall, crumbling to the cold marble floor in a shivering ball of pain and rage.

            She didn’t know how long she stayed huddled there, her blonde curls buried in her arms as she hugged her knees tightly. At some point, a presence made itself known in the room, and as she felt a warm hand caress her shoulder, she leaned into it, seeking comfort. She finally lifted her head, her weary, tear-stained gaze expecting to see Rebekah glaring at her for wasting time.

            The sight before her was one she couldn’t begin to understand. Matt knelt beside her, his faded baby blues filled with concern as he asked gently, “Did you like my flower?”

 


	19. I Know Your Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the last chapter’s twist caught a lot of you by surprise! :) Thank you for continuing to support my story; your insightful reviews and kind words are great motivators! I hope you enjoy this chapter and that you feel it answers at least some of your questions. I’m very excited to get your thoughts, so please let me know what you think!

           Blue eyes were highly prized in ancient civilizations. Blue was associated with the sky where many of their gods dwelled, and it was believed that those who possessed blue eyes had achieved enlightenment and were perhaps gods themselves who chose to walk amongst the mortals. As Caroline stared into the increasingly deranged, faded blue gaze of Matt, she couldn’t help but think of how fucking stupid the Mesopotamians had been.

            Matt finished checking the oddly heavy shackles placed around her wrists, giving them an experimental tap as he mumbled phrases in a language she didn’t recognize. “There. That should hold you for now while we work this out, Caroline,” he said with a hopeful note in his voice. “I just need you to understand me; that everything I did was for us,” he continued earnestly, clearly misinterpreting her confusion and growing fear of him.

            “Matty,” she croaked, hating how her voice broke when she called him by the nickname she’d always had for him, “I don’t understand — all this time — it was you? How can it be you?” She felt tears well up, threatening to spill as she tried to regain control of her voice. “Why would you want to hurt so many people?”

            He shook his blonde head, sighing as he replied, “I told you — I did it for us. All these years we’ve known each other, the deep connection we feel, there’s no reason we should keep denying that we belong together, Caroline.”

            Caroline’s eyes narrowed at his words, and while she couldn’t begin to fathom how he had misinterpreted their interactions as anything remotely romantic, she instead chose to focus on one curious phrase he had uttered. “What do you mean, ‘all these years’? I’ve only known you since you were a freshman at the university.”

            Matt’s blissful smile was incredibly disturbing. “Actually, we’ve known each other longer than that. I was a runaway when I was a kid, and you took me into your shelter, raising me with such kindness and compassion, I couldn’t help but fall in love with the beautiful person you are, both inside and out. You even taught me how to fish — that’s why it’s my favorite pastime now.”

            Part of her vision from the Phoenix Stone came to her, and she recalled the omens that foretold a betrayal by someone to whom she was most loyal. The vision showed her the homeless shelter and a fishing pole leaning against a wall with her stolen bracelet tangled in the reel. She scoured her memories, trying to place Matt at the shelter as a child, but she found nothing. She tilted her head, suspiciously examining her student as she asked, “I can recount almost every memory of that shelter with perfect clarity. Why can’t I remember you?”

            “Because I took away your memories of the two weeks I spent with you as a child. I wanted you to look upon me as a man.” Faint orange sparks shot from his hands as he gestured to himself. “I’m from a powerful line of witches and when my mother discovered my magic, she was afraid of me and insisted I never use my gifts. When she discovered I was at the shelter, she forced me to move away with her. My powers grew further when I was a teenager, and I killed that bitch for keeping me away from you for so long.”

            The dark expression on his boyish face when he spoke of his mother cleared as he continued, “When I found you again, you were still teaching and I decided that I would become your best student. I would devote myself to history as you have done and you would grow to love me just as I’ve always loved you.”

            Fighting off the violent urge to vomit at Matt’s appalling Oedipal fixation on her and the fact that he murdered his mother, she rested her head against the paneled wall behind her with a soft thunk, breathing in the oddly familiar scents of pine mixed with old sawdust. A horrific thought struck her as she asked incredulously, “Are — are we in my building?” The building was once a wood mill built in the 1890s before it had been refurbished into lofts. Her vampiric senses never failed to pick up the faint hints of the building’s history in the air.

            “Yes,” he said, beaming at her excitedly, “I’ve been renting the basement for a while now. Once I realized that you’d invited Klaus into your life, I knew I’d need a private space to — work.”

            Alarm flooded her as she realized she’d momentarily forgotten about Klaus and Rebekah. “Oh my god, what the hell did you do to them?!”

            His eyes narrowed and he gave an almost inhuman snarl as he answered, “Nothing more than they deserve.” He held out his wrist to her, and she felt sick when she realized that he’d taken her silver bracelet and wrapped it around his own wrist, binding it with some sort of dried leaves and bits of red cord. “As soon as I kill Klaus, the love spell I’ve placed on your bracelet should work,” he explained with a wild gleam in his eyes.

            Caroline’s voice was a hoarse whisper as she asked, “My God, Matty, how could you possibly think that I could love you like this? You can’t force a connection on people! It’s wrong! How could you do this to me?”

            “Because I know your heart, Caroline! You’ve showed it to me time and time again! You protected me from Professor Lockwood when you knew he was trying to recruit me for his stupid club so he could steal my research. You even tried to compel me away to safety because you care so deeply about me!” Matt seemed to realize he was shouting at her and quickly amended his tone to something more persuasive. “That’s why I chose to defend our love, Caroline. I killed Dean Saltzman because he threatened your career. Professor Lockwood was already on my hit list for trying to steal your Phoenix Stone research when that sleazy bastard started hitting on you! As if _he_ could ever be worthy of you!”

            Caroline sat huddled on the cold concrete floor in shock. How could she have been so wrong about him? She’d been so certain that the face he showed her was his true self — sweet, innocent, and kind-hearted. _And she had fought to protect that fake innocence_ , she thought bitterly. She took a few calming breaths, trying to figure a way out of this mess. The iron he’d placed on her wrists didn’t physically hurt, so clearly he hadn’t used vervain on them, but he had enchanted them to withstand her vampiric strength. She thought back to Matt’s earlier words about the Originals and demanded, “Where are Klaus and Rebekah?!”

            “The Originals,” he spat, “what a pain in the ass they’ve been this entire time. Do you have _any_ idea how exhausting it is to monitor them in addition to everyone else in your circle without being detected? I was practically bathing in Gatorade just to recharge.” He leaned closer, taking her trembling hands in his as he added, “But then I devised a plan to send Klaus away, but I swear to you that I had no idea you would get sucked into the Phoenix Stone too. You have to believe me that as soon as I saw the spell went wrong, I quickly reversed it to bring you back; I just hadn’t counted on you pulling Klaus with you.”

            He straightened, telling her briskly, “But, no matter. Once I take care of Klaus and Rebekah, we’ll be free to start our life together.” He swept his hands in a wide arc, orange and red light bursts briefly flashing in the dim basement before tangling together to form a large cage.

            Caroline gasped when she realized Klaus and Rebekah were trapped inside. While their clothes were bloody and torn, whatever damage the Yenaldooshi’s claws had done to their bodies already had mended thanks to their supernatural healing abilities. She looked fearfully around the basement, worried that at any moment, Matt could summon the malicious creature he clearly had been using to do his dirty work. She relaxed somewhat when she realized that the creature had yet to make an appearance. “Klaus,” she breathed, hope swelling in her heart as she sought the familiar comfort of his steel gaze.

            Klaus’ curly head snapped to attention at her voice, and he gripped the bars of the enclosure, the muscles in his forearms bunching together as he attempted to break through. Despite his impressive Original strength, he was unable to move the offending metal, his anger tinged with concern as he called out to her, “Sweetheart, has he hurt you? Once I’m free, I will rip apart that worthless boy, starting with his deceitful tongue!”

            Rebekah scowled, angrily announcing, “Not before I get a taste, Nik. The idiot boy has absolutely ruined my Brunello Cucinelli,” she huffed, looking down disdainfully at her ragged cropped pants, the once lustrous bronze velvet now a stained and shredded mess.

            “I’m fine, Klaus,” Caroline interjected before Rebekah could go on another tangent about her ruined outfit. “He hasn’t hurt me,” she said, eyeing Matt carefully. She realized that her initial angry outburst hadn’t been the best way to reach Matt. She needed to try to appeal to him on an emotional level.

            As she thought back to what little she knew about Matt, sudden inspiration struck. “Matt, think about what you’re doing, okay? This isn’t you. Think about April; what would she say?”

            That strange gleam was back in Matt’s eye as he cheerfully told her, “There is no April. I overheard you telling Stefan that your middle name is April, named after your grandmother.”

            Caroline shook her head in confusion as she protested, “But there’s a picture on your phone...”

            “I was at the county fair and asked one of the girls competing if she’d take a picture with me,” he casually shrugged, adding, “You were just getting to know me again and I wanted to take it slow with you. You deserve to be treated right, Caroline.”

            Klaus’ answering possessive growl momentarily distracted her from her disgust. She flashed the irate hybrid a gentle smile, trying to draw strength from his reassuring presence. Matt’s words sickened her; the way that he clung to this fantasy of a romance with her. The elaborate lies he had spun to earn her trust baffled her, and she couldn’t begin to fathom the damaged mind that could justify his disgusting deeds. “So you lied to me and you just expect me to trust you now? And worse, you’re going to summon the Yenaldooshi you have on a magical leash to rip apart Klaus and Rebekah and I’m just supposed to watch?”

            Klaus’ strangled voice overwhelmed her with its desperation as he yelled, “No! Caroline — it’s worse than we thought!”

            Caroline didn’t understand his reaction. _What could make Klaus that afraid?_


	20. I Mark You, Creature

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’ve now reached the end of this story; thank you all for your support! I’ve really appreciated your thoughtful reviews and words of encouragement. I hope you enjoy this final chapter and that you feel it answers your remaining questions.
> 
> Warning: Some violence.

            Brows knitted in confusion, Caroline turned toward Matt who had pulled himself up to his full height, looking down at her with an oddly benevolent expression. “Summon the Yenaldooshi? Not exactly,” he said with a small smile.

            She watched in horror as the unsettling smile grew, stretching across the confines of his deceptively innocent baby face as it _changed_. His human form bent and twisted, stretching until it became _familiar_. The shape of an abnormally large coyote emerged, complete with rust-colored fur and knifelike claws. _Matt didn’t just command the Yenaldooshi. Matt WAS the Yenaldooshi_.

            Heart pounding, she leapt to her feet, cursing as her iron shackles prevented her from moving more than a few steps. _How could Matt be a skin-walker?_ She thought back to what she had learned about him and remembered that he said he’d killed his mother. _Dark witches gain the power of a skin-walker by murdering a blood relative_. The creature’s muddy yellow eyes shone with a frightening combination of cruelty and madness she never would have thought Matt capable of. It studied her carefully, as though judging whether she was a threat before turning its powerful body away from her, clearly satisfied she was temporarily subdued.

            She clenched her fists, her nails cutting deeply into her palms until they bled, watching Matt slowly stalk toward the cage where the Originals bravely faced him. “No! Please stop,” she cried, knowing what would happen next.

            Klaus and Rebekah valiantly fought the creature’s mind control, but the terrifying visions were too powerful, and they each fell to their knees in defeat as the dark visions of their past tortured them. She looked on in sorrow as Rebekah clutched at her head, tearing out her blonde hair by the roots as she shrieked pitifully, “No, Father! Please! I swear I’ll obey; I’m sorry!” She curled her trembling body into a tight ball, pleading with the cruel vision of the Originals’ abusive father.

            Tears fell steadily from Caroline’s eyes as she watched her strong, beautiful friend fall apart under Matt’s magic. She hated how powerless she felt, and her heart ached as she heard Klaus’ anguished cry as he screamed, “Do as you will, Mikael! But spare them; it is I who have wronged you; not them!” His eyes were clenched shut, gnashing his teeth as his hybrid features faded in and out while he was under the strain of the devastating visions.

            Sobbing, she couldn’t bear to watch them in agony any longer, and she recalled how she had defeated the Yenaldooshi in the Phoenix Stone when she demanded that it reveal its name. “Matt,” she screamed, “Your name is Matt and I mark you, creature!”

            When the Yenaldooshi paused mid-step, Caroline allowed herself the smallest sliver of hope that she had stopped the creature. Matt turned his coyote’s head with its misshapen muzzle full of jagged canines, tracing a sinister red tongue across the sharpened points as he looked back at her. Her heart sank as he resumed his path toward the cage where both Originals continued to writhe in agony under the weight of their horrible visions. The moment his claws cut a bloody swath across Rebekah’s face and Klaus’ neck, Caroline screamed until she was hoarse.

            She sank to her knees in despair, her vision blurry with tears as she stared at Matt’s pile of clothes near one of the wide cracks in the concrete floor. A flash of dull red caught her eye and she realized with a start that Matt had shoved the Phoenix Stone in the front pocket of his denim shirt. Flashing back to the last bit of research she uncovered about the Anasazi shamans, understanding now why Matt had purposely misfiled it, she knew what she had to do.

            Taking a shaky breath, she did her best to block out Klaus and Rebekah’s agonizing screams. “Matty,” she whispered, “I see it now. I understand why you did...this,” she gestured toward the cage, a slight smile on her face as the creature returned to her, bizarrely wagging its shaggy tail. The clumps of rust-colored fur melted away, leaving behind an expanse of pale, bare skin. She quickly averted her eyes before she saw too much, giving Matt a few moments to get dressed. When she glanced at him again, his faded blue eyes were staring at her with his usual warmth, breaking her heart all over again.

            “Do you really? I tried so hard, and you’ve been so stubborn...” he trailed off helplessly, the hesitance in his voice obvious.

            Caroline stepped closer to Matt, pointedly not looking at Klaus as she said, “I’ve always been stubborn, Matty, but you know that about me. You know everything about me, don’t you?” Taking his hand in hers, she lightly caressed the delicate tissue between his thumb and forefinger, resisting the urge to rip it out with her teeth as she added, “You accept me as I am; it’s all I’ve ever wanted. You’ve given me an amazing gift.”

            Matt seemed to relax under her touch, leaning into her ever so slightly as he said, “I scarcely let myself believe that you would give into our love.” He leaned forward, his lips quivering slightly as he gently kissed her forehead. “Just for you, my sweet Caroline, I’ll spare the Originals and instead banish them to the stone and let the skin-walker that the shamans placed inside there keep them company.”

            “Don’t you dare touch her!” Klaus’ snarling voice made her jump, and she hated how she couldn’t turn to him for comfort as she carried out her plan. 

            Refocusing on Matt, she refused to let her bright smile falter at his despicable words. “You would do that for me? For _us_?” As he nodded enthusiastically, she allowed her other hand to lightly creep up his chest, her fingertips toying with the edge of his shirt pocket. The shackles he’d placed on her wrists prohibited any sudden movements, so she had to rely on slight twitches of her muscles to complete her task. She stared into his blue eyes, so heartbreakingly familiar and yet hints of madness had begun to seep in.

            _He was no longer her human_. She silently relinquished her protection even as she allowed a false warmth to enter her gaze, drawing him in as she traced the ancient carvings along the edges of the stone. “Do you know why the Phoenix Stone became an obsession for me,” she boldly asked him. Matt shrugged, clearly puzzled by her change in tactics.

            “It’s a culmination of an ancient civilization that I cannot hope to comprehend; I’ve searched for decades for a way to unlock its mysteries, and yet you’ve already mastered its power. I’m so proud of you, Matty,” Caroline complimented him, conscious of the way Klaus had stiffened in the cage, his steel gray eyes narrowed as he tried to determine her true intentions.

            Matt nodded excitedly, his gaze flickered briefly to his prisoners as he surmised, “So that’s why you were drawn to the hybrid? Because of his power?” He scoffed, obviously unimpressed by the Original. “But now you’ve seen what _I_ can do. My power can get us everything we’ve ever wanted, Caroline.”

            “Well, you’re right about one thing, Matt. It _is_ about the power,” Caroline acknowledged, finally palming the Phoenix Stone. As her fingers curled possessively around the red beryl surface, she acidly added, “ _Your_ power, actually.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Klaus’ relieved expression, and she favored him with a sly wink. She remembered the research she uncovered about the Anasazi shamans; how the folklore suggested they often used the stone as an anchor for their powers, placing their magic within the stone for safekeeping. _She knew why Matt had tried to hide this research from her_.

            Matt had stored his power within the Phoenix Stone — just like the Anasazi shamans before him. That’s how he was able to control the visions she and Klaus had in the stone and how he managed to hijack the ritual from Bonnie when they freed Elijah. The initial crack of the brittle stone in her powerful grip was immensely satisfying. She relished the crisp snap; to her, it sounded like freedom.

            “No!” Matt’s eyes widened in alarm as he finally realized her plan. “I need my power; _we_ need it!” He tried snatching the stone from her grasp, but he was too late, his anguish apparent as he uselessly pleaded with her.                        

            A merciless smile slid across Caroline’s face as she finished destroying the Phoenix Stone, tossing the remaining few useless pebbles to the concrete floor as her bonds fell away. She inwardly breathed a sigh of relief as she saw the cage forged with Matt’s power also disappeared, leaving Klaus and Rebekah unharmed.

            Klaus immediately flashed to her, holding her against his body as he seemed to breathe her in. “Sweetheart, are you alright?” As she nodded, he released her, joining Rebekah as they glared menacingly at the broken man before them. “You pathetic, insolent child,” he raged, “How dare you seek to take what is mine!”

            “Yes, and let’s not gloss over the fact that he absolutely destroyed my Brunello Cucinelli,” Rebekah hissed, gesturing to the ragged remains of her once crisply tailored cropped pants.

            Caroline rolled her eyes at Rebekah’s antics before frowning at Klaus, telling him, “We’re going to revisit that weirdly possessive vibe you’re putting out there when we’re not dealing with this uncomfortably creepy Oedipal tragedy.”

            Frowning as though he misread the mercy he saw on her face, Klaus answered, “He sought to harm you, love. He needs to pay for what he’s done.”

            “In his mind, he didn’t think he was hurting me,” she disagreed, kneeling beside Matt who remained huddled on the cold floor as he looked up at her with tears in his eyes. “But he did hurt others,” she amended, placing her palm lightly on his chest. It hurt her to see him so broken now that his power was gone. She shook her head sadly; he was once a cherished friend, someone she fought valiantly protect. _But not anymore_.

            “I love you, Caroline,” Matt brokenly told her, pitifully reaching out to her.

            Despite her rage, she couldn’t stop her tears as she shook her head, telling him, “You were never taught how to love someone. You have my pity.” In a move too fast for his eyes to register, she tore her nails into his chest, shredding through tissue and muscle until she gripped his heart. As she removed it with a sickening squelch, she added venomously, “But you’ll _never_ have my forgiveness.”

            She stared at her gore-streaked fingers, unable to bring herself to look into Matt’s dead eyes. Throughout her long life, she rarely harmed others unless provoked, but this was a death she knew she would carry with her always. She realized Klaus was crouched down by the fallen human, pulling at something along his wrist — her stolen bracelet. As he removed it from the body, angrily stripping away the dried leaves and red cord from the spell Matt had intended to use on her, she told him reassuringly, “It wouldn’t have worked on me. _Never_.”

            His gray eyes briefly flashed wolf gold. “If his spell had worked, I never would have stopped until I saved you.” He self-consciously rubbed the back of his neck as he told her in a quiet tone, “Earlier when I said you were mine, I also meant that I was yours.” At his sister’s derisive snort, he cutely stumbled over his words as he explained, “I mean...uh, I hoped, that is, that perhaps we could belong to each other?”

            Caroline beamed at him through her tears, nodding as she answered, “I’m pretty sure I became yours the moment you argued with me over proper character formation in ancient Nsibidi script.”

            Klaus chuckled, kissing her soundly before replying, “And I’m fairly certain I was yours the moment you hypothesized to a lecture hall full of academics that I was a goat herder with an overactive imagination and a bit of a fetish.”

            “You two have the oddest foreplay I’ve ever had the misfortune to witness — and that’s including the summer I spent with Elizabeth Báthory,” Rebekah said, raising a critical eyebrow at the two as they kissed. She headed toward the basement’s door, sighing dramatically as she added, “I’m sure Elijah is anxious to give us a lecture about not waiting for him before we went to rescue Nik.”

            Kissing the top of Caroline’s wild blonde curls, Klaus said indulgently, “Well, then, best not to keep our brother waiting.” As Caroline paused uncertainly at the basement’s threshold, not quite ready to acknowledge Matt’s fallen form, Klaus gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Whatever you need, love,” he murmured encouragingly.

            She allowed herself to sink into his comforting warmth, chewing her bottom lip as she considered his words carefully. “It might be nice to get away for a bit.”

            “That easily can be arranged, sweetheart. Did you have a destination in mind,” Klaus asked, a gleam in his gray eyes as though he already was organizing their itinerary.

            With a mischievous smile, Caroline replied, “I may have a few ideas.”

* * *

 

            “When you suggested a romantic getaway, I must admit that I pictured something a bit different, love,” Klaus grumbled, wiping the sweat that dripped from his dirty blonde curls.

            Caroline looked at him fondly, appreciating the way the dry desert wind molded his simple white t-shirt to his firm chest. They were on the outskirts of Mosul, excavating the ancient Assyrian city of Nineveh. “We’re standing in the same place where the original _Epic of Gilgamesh_ tablets were discovered in the 19 th century. What could be more romantic than that?”

            “A Parisian balcony and a well-aged bottle of Louis XIII de Remy Martin Grande Champagne Cognac to start,” Klaus grumbled good naturedly, examining the scraps of parchment from the centuries-old map they were following.

            She slung an arm around his neck, pulling him in for a passionate kiss, murmuring seductively, “Well, back at base camp, we have a lovely silk tent that opens to the incredible night sky and a big, comfy bed.” Looking up at him through her thick lashes, she added coyly, “Or, we _could_ get tangled up in the gigantic hammock full of satin pillows again.”

            He let out a sexy growl, gold flaring in his gray eyes as he replied, “I suppose there are a few silver linings to your latest obsession, sweetheart.”

            Caroline laughed softly at Klaus’ assessment of their current situation. It had been six months since Matt’s death, and while she still thought of him, her nightmares had finally stopped. She learned that the only way for her to reconcile everything that happened was to mourn the young man she thought she knew — rather than the monster he turned out to be.     She also needed a distraction; which is what led to her latest archaeological passion — the ancient Sumerian _Epic of Gilgamesh_. The 19 th century discovery yielded twelve tablets that told the tale of the epic flood; however, her research on tablet fragments from 2,000 B.C. hinted at an intriguing twist in the well-known creationism myth: That the disaster was based on actual events and a curse tablet was hidden in the ancient city that could summon a global flood. She was positively giddy at the prospect of investigating the myth, and despite Klaus’ gruff protests, she could feel his own interest had been piqued as well.

            It was immensely satisfying to have finally found her match; someone whose thirst for learning equaled her own; and she’d never felt so content in her long life. In addition, her friendship with Rebekah had flourished. She and the Original had become especially close after she had helped her with the admissions application to Parsons School of Design. Rebekah was currently pouting because Elijah wouldn’t let her audition for _Project Runway_ because “as an immortal, she had an obligation not to draw unnecessary attention to herself.” Caroline had thought Elijah would loosen up now that he and Bonnie were dating, but apparently, the feisty witch had yet to take all of the starch out of his suit.

            She’d even begun to rebuild her friendship with Stefan. After everything that had happened, he left to go teach English and music in Indonesia. The emails they occasionally exchanged had become less careful, less _cautious_ in their words and while she knew things would never be as they were, she was hopeful that one day she would consider him a friend once more.

            Klaus’ voice interrupted her musings when he asked, “Sweetheart, you do realize there’s every possibility that this curse tablet we’re searching for could summon an actual flood, correct?”

            Blue eyes sparkling with mischief, Caroline replied, “Come on, Klaus. It’s just a silly myth. What’s the worst that cou


End file.
